


when words fail, music speaks

by braveatheart



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Marching Band AU, Multi, but still, lowkey this is a clexa fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-05-25 10:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 64,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6192049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braveatheart/pseuds/braveatheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've seen high school AU's, now get ready for another high school AU...only this time, they're all in a marching band. </p><p>Not gonna lie, this is definitely a lowkey Clexa fic, but definitely focuses on all the characters as well.</p><p>4/8: In light of recent events, I have decided to change the direction of this fic. I can't stand all the heaviness, so I apologize for the time it will take to get a new update since I am scrapping chapter 9 and what I've written for chapter 10. Bear with me here, and I hope anyone keeping track will understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is my first time writing a multichapter fic in a long time. A03 screwed up my original notes, so I don't remember exactly what I said... but please let me know how you enjoy this and leave comments! My tumblr is ambershipstheships, so feel free to come see me there, too!
> 
> -Amber
> 
> So it turns out all of my chapters were cut off and I didn't realize it. Please re-read this story from the beginning with ALL of the words that are supposed to be there!

“Clarke Griffin, if you don’t shut that alarm off, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

Clarke giggles quietly at her friend’s empty threat, still half asleep. She peers over the edge of her bed, the creak elicited by her movements far too loud for hours as early as this one. A tiny groan from the ground below her seems to validate her feelings, and she smiles down at the pile of blankets and pillows that she can just barely make out in the dark.

“You act like it’s early or something,” Clarke says, her voice still rough from sleep as the abundance of fluff shuffles, making way for a head to pop out. 

“You’re lucky that alarm woke me up. Lord knows if you had to wake me up, you really would be dead before we got to that school,” Octavia says, smiling up at Clarke. Her long brunette locks are all but a tangled mess.

“And it’s a good thing that you’re awake, because we still have to wake this one up,” the blonde responds, motioning to the still asleep girl in bed next to her. Octavia had protested against both of them the night before, complaining that Clarke’s floor was too hard, and that she never gets to sleep in the bed when all three of them were over. However, Raven was having none of it, and the two of them handled it in a very professional manner that resulted in a busted pillowcase and far too many feathers on Clarke’s floor.

Octavia quietly and carefully climbs onto the bed, cautious not to touch Raven. When she settles at the foot of the bed, she slowly and gently removes Raven’s blanket, revealing bare feet.

She glances up and meets Clarke’s eyes. The blonde shakes her head, and Octavia smiles deviously.

“Oh no,” Clarke says, but she can’t help the grin that spreads across her own face as Octavia reaches over the edge of the bed and picks up one of the feather casualties from the night before. She leans closer to Raven and ever so lightly pokes at the bottoms of her feet. The other brunette stirs again, an annoyed sound escaping her lips. Again, Octavia runs the feather up the length of Raven’s foot. Suddenly, she jolts up, kicking her foot out instinctively. It hits Octavia square in the thigh, and she doesn’t even wince. Instead, she giggles silently at her best friend’s glare as soon as she realizes what happened.

“May you both be struck by a flying drumstick,” Raven groans, running her fingers through her tangled curls. 

“Oh, why so bitter?” Clarke teases, feigning pity on the barely awake girl. She receives a gentle shove and a half smile and decides that’s good enough for her.

\---

A few people file into the band room slowly, trudging their feet in protest at the ungodly hour at which they had to wake. Their performance, the first of the season, wasn’t until 4:32 that afternoon, but the three hour drive plus food and rehearsal first thing in the morning required an ever so lovely call time of 7 am. 

Lexa glances up at the clock, noting that they have exactly ten hours until their performance. She fumbles with the sticks in her hand, twisting them and spinning them with her fingers as she had learned to in her first year with the band. The senior on the tenor line was her only friend that year, and he taught her every stick trick in the book.

“You okay, squirt?” calls an all too familiar voice from the hallway behind her. Lexa turns around, and her older sister is walking toward her, gloves already in hand.

“You know I hate early rehearsals,” Lexa groans, and Anya smiles. She takes the gloves between her teeth and pulls her hair into a messy bun quickly as the two girls walk toward the percussion room.

“But you also know it’s worth it,” Anya quips. Both of them wince slightly at the scratching sound that fills the room as the younger of the two pulls a set of tenors off of the shelves. Lexa pulls the carrier over her shoulders and lets out a small grunt as the weight of the drums settles on her.

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” she says. Anya is about to respond when another familiar face pokes her head into the room.

“Sorry to interrupt bonding time. Kane is looking for us. Also, can you go yell at Bell and Murphy to shut up? You’re scarier,” Costia says in a hurried breath. Her dark brown curls are pulled into a rushed ponytail, and little pieces are sticking out in various places. Lexa smiles at her once-lover’s last statement and she can’t disagree with the accusation.

“What are they fighting about now?” Anya asks, and the three of them leave the room and head toward the football field, where Kane is surely waiting for his drum majors.

“Bellamy insists that tuba is the superior brass instrument, and Murphy disagrees. I swear, they both should’ve played trumpet,” Costia groans, swerving out of the way of a rushed flute player.

“They’ve got the egos for it,” Lexa chimes in. Jasper and Monty, both carrying the instruments in question, walk past the three of them just then.

“Heard that,” they say in unison. Anya and Costia grin, and Lexa playfully rolls her eyes.

When the three of them reach the field, sure enough, Bellamy and Murphy are at each other’s throats already.

“Do you even know what an eighth note looks like?” Murphy asks. Behind him, someone snorts not so quietly at the comment, and Lexa catches a flash of blonde hair.

She walks toward the blonde, and sure enough, Clarke is setting her baritone on the dark green turf. She throws her head back and takes a quick drink of water, then sets it down and jogs out to the center of the field to meet her friends. Lexa bites back the urge to smile and sets her tenors down next to what she presumes to be Raven’s snare, then walks out to her spot in the block as well.

\---

As the last chord of Jupiter rings out, the wall of sound so loud that Clarke is certain her eardrums will burst, Costia’s hands come down once more. The sound stops all at once, and it echoes in the distance for a solid couple of seconds. The corner of Clarke’s mouth pulls up in a satisfied smirk, and it widens to a full smile when she sees Kane clapping from the bleachers.

“Do that tonight and we’re golden. You’re dismissed. Load first, then lunch is waiting,” he says into the microphone, his voice booming through the speakers above. Costia lets her arms fall, and everyone on the field collectively relaxes. Clarke’s arms burn from the effort of holding up a ten pound horn for a full seven minutes, never breaking from her near perfect posture. She’s certain she’s going to need crutches to get inside, because her legs almost couldn’t handle the two runthroughs back to back.

“You done good, kid,” Bellamy says. He walks up next to her and throws his arm around her shoulders, carrying his tuba in another. Next to him, Lincoln is doing the same as he holds Octavia’s hand.

Clarke smiles at the compliment, and her eyes then fall to the gigantic instrument once again.

“How in the hell do you carry that thing with one hand?” she asks, and Bellamy smirks. 

“It’s called upper body strength. You should try it,” he says. Clarke scoffs and shoves him away gently.

“You didn’t give me much of a choice in the matter, Bell,” she says, recalling her first year. While he was only a sophomore, Bellamy had already made a name for himself in the low brass section. He was one of the most dedicated there, and was essentially the section leader. Everyone listened to him, anyway. Because of this, every mistake was met with at least five pushups. By the end of the season, Clarke had biceps bigger than half of the guys in the section. Big Brother Bellamy couldn’t have been any more proud.

Bell keeps his arm wrapped around Clarke as they talk into a the building, a comfortable silence settling around them as the rest of the band is bustling with life.

\----

Loading and lunch pass by rather quickly, as they always do. They had an hour and a half to complete both of those tasks, and even then it hadn’t felt like enough. Several kids are still chewing their last bites of specialty sub sandwiches (rather, meat and cheese on bread) as they load the bus.

Clarke walks toward the very back of the bus, grateful that the seniors didn’t all decide to take the last seats. Anya sits on one side of the back seats, and Clarke immediately claims the other. She practically throws down her duffel bag stocked with food, then gently places her blanket and pillow to the far edge of the seat closest to the wall.

“You have enough there for you to survive an apocalypse,” Anya teases, and the younger blonde smiles as she leans back in her seat, the pillow now propped against the wall. She unfolds her blanket, her father’s blue and black one, and pulls it over her body. The air still holds a slight chill though it is nearly eleven.

“Never know when it could happen, gotta be prepared,” she says, the soft fleece of the blanket covering her nearly bare shoulders. Her tanktop didn’t provide much coverage.

“Anya! Switch me, Lexa’s being a butt,” calls a voice suddenly. Clarke looks up, and Costia and Lexa are sitting a few seats ahead of them, Lexa on one side of the bus and Costia on the other. The accused brunette scoffs at her now-best-friend and the hint of a smile plays at her lips. Clarke can’t help but admire the friendship they were able to keep even after they decided a relationship wasn’t for them.

“See ya, kid,” Anya says, complying with Costia’s request. Lexa rolls her eyes and gathers all of her things.

“God, both of you. I’m pretty sure zombies won’t attack today, you don’t need to have enough to last you three years on your own,” Anya groans as Lexa comes back to her seat. Lexa has just as much as Clarke, if not more, and she plops into the seat with a grunt as she nearly drops her bag.

She settles into a position matching Clarke’s in silence, then lets out a sigh as she pulls her blanket up to her chin. Clarke notes that the brunette is donning a muscle tank only slightly more covering than her own and wonders why the girls in the band are often so ill-prepared for the chill of the autumn air.

Lexa’s eyes fall shut and a breath of air escapes her lips. She looks peaceful in a way Clarke had never seen before. The girl is normally quite reserved and quiet, and doesn’t show emotion outwardly. Here she looks almost...human.

She opens her eyes slowly, and for a moment their eyes meet. Clarke looks away hurriedly. She reaches down toward her bag to pretend she was looking for something.

“You’re the one who ended up stronger than half the brass section in her first year,” a sudden voice says, pulling her from her momentary panic. Clarke looks up toward the voice and finds that Lexa has not looked away.

“You’re the one who got a spot on the tenor line without even auditioning,” the blonde quips back. Lexa nods, smiling slightly. 

Silence falls over the two of them, and Clarke notices a heaviness weighing on her eyelids. 

“You should rest, Raven mentioned you didn’t go to bed until one,” Lexa says, and Clarke smiles, remembering the adventures of the night before. Wordlessly, she settles into her makeshift bed and lets sleep take over.

Lexa pretends that it’s only because it’s natural to stare ahead that she finds herself sneaking glances at the sleeping girl across from her.

\----

An eternity passes before Clarke finally returns to her the warmth and comfort of her father’s blanket. The bleachers are frigid from the falling temperatures of the evening air, and despite the warmth of the blanket, she finds herself shivering slightly. 

“You’re sharing,” Raven says, sitting down next to her with sour Skittles in hand.

“You owe me,” Clarke responds, and she opens the blanket to let her friend in. The shared body heat makes the blanket just a bit warmer and the night air just a bit more manageable. Raven deposits a handful of skittles into Clarke’s hands, and the blonde smiles gratefully.

Octavia, Lincoln, and Bellamy are soon to follow the pair. The trio sits in the row in front of Raven and Clarke. Lincoln and Octavia are wrapped in a blanket, and Bellamy is wearing only a coat.

“You cold, Bell?” Octavia asks him, and he shakes his head.

“Nah. This is good weather,” he responds, unbuttoning his coat to further his point. It’s cold enough to see his breath, but he seems unfazed by the cold.

“You’re crazy,” Clarke says, her teeth still chattering. 

Before anyone can add to her conclusion, a booming voice comes over the speakers.

“Now, from Azgeda county, you know them as the Ice Nation...the Azgeda High School Warriors!”

It is all Clarke can do not to roll her eyes and let out an audible groan of dismay at the announcement. Azgeda, coined as the Ice Nation due to their signature white, blue, and black uniforms, was Arkadia’s arch enemy in every way. The football team was one of the best in the state, and their band was no different. Year after year, Azgeda and Arkadia were neck in neck. Yet, Azgeda always prevailed. And Arkadia was tired of it.

“Let’s see what lovely show we get to see today,” Octavia says, her dislike toward the band quite obvious. 

As the field is being set, Clarke scans the pieces that are coming together. On the left side of the field, there is a platform with a strange looking throne. It appears to be made from tree branches. Though Arkadia couldn’t hate Azgeda much more, all of them has to admit that it’s a well done prop. To the right side of the field, an incredibly intricate beaten down version of the Lincoln memorial sits on the 30 yard line. The rest of the field is scattered lightly with debris and pieces of things we know in today’s world, battered but still recognizable.

No one could deny that it was already impressive, and Clarke wants to scream.

The show begins with a booming opener that everyone in the stands recognizes. Azgeda is not well liked by anyone, so the collective eye roll that resounds through the crowd puts a smile on Clarke’s face. 

“Les Mis? Seriously?” Bellamy complains. “That’s my favorite SCV show. And they just ruined it.”

“Oh shut up, Bell, we know you’re going to play that tuba feature until your last breath,” Octavia quips back at her brother, and he smiles and nods, not denying the accusation. 

The menacing chords of Look Down fill the stadium and everyone seems a little jealous of how powerful they sound already, on the very first night.

The familiar Les Mis tune fades away into nothing, and is instead replaced by an ominous sounding ballad that must be original, because no one seems to recognize it. There isn’t much power behind it, but it leaves Clarke with a certain uneasiness that she suspects is meant to be there. 

“They’re good, I gotta admit,” Raven says, her eyes fixed on the musicians on the field as they moved swiftly and effortlessly.

As the ballad reaches what Clarke assumes is its final few lines, she lets her eyes wander through the crowd in search of the rest of her band. Jasper and Monty are sitting a few rows below them, chattering about Lord knows what. Nathan Miller, a softspoken mellophone player, is sitting next to Monty, a small smile on his face as he observes the pair’s antics. Murphy is sitting with the rest of the trombone section, apart from Octavia, a few people over from them. On the other side of the stairs, Costia and Anya are sitting behind a quiet, focused Lexa.

Before any thought can come to mind, Clarke’s attention is pulled back to the field when another familiar tune fills the chilly night air.

She had kept in her groans and complaints the whole show thus far, but she can’t help but let out  a quiet yet still audible moan of displeasure as soon as she recognizes the piece.

“They’re joking. Mars? Seriously? Who’s the one with the space show again?” she says, voicing her frustrations. Raven chuckles next to her at the fiery blonde’s response. 

On the field, one of the members of the guard walks out from behind the Lincoln memorial. She’s changed outfits and now dons what can only be described as a battered queen’s clothes. A long cape flows behind her, and she carries a staff fashioned from branches, just like the throne she is walking to.

“Okay, that’s cool,” Lincoln admits, and it’s the first thing Clarke has heard him say all day. He is nearly as softspoken Miller.

The show comes to a close, and then the wait for awards begins.

\----

Lexa practically collapses into her seat as they load the bus at the end of the night. It is now pushing 9:45, and the three hour drive ahead puts them reaching Arkadia around 12:45, likely closer to 1:00. Lovely.

Per the usual, Azgeda came in first, and Arkadia was just a few points behind. It was never by much, but Azgeda always just had something that was a little bit better, a little more powerful, a little more developed.

This would be the year, though, and Lexa was sure of it. They may not defeat Azgeda, but they would compete alongside them at State. Nothing could get in the way of that. Not again.

A second person collapsing into their seat brought Lexa out of her determined trance. Clarke was sprawled across the seat, her legs hanging off the edge and her left arm dangling from the side. The corner of Lexa’s mouth curls upward involuntarily, and she bites her cheek.

“Tired?” she says quietly, her exhaustion so great that even the slightest sounds are much too loud. A soft chuckle comes from the seat across from her. Clarke sits up slowly and grabs her blanket, promptly wrapping it around her shoulders, then kicks her shoes off and removes her worn black socks. The bus jolts slightly forward, and they’re finally on their way home.

“Aren’t you? Did you sleep on the way here at all?” Clarke asks, a yawn cutting off the end of her sentence. She leans her head against the seat in front of her as she looks over at Lexa.

The brunette shakes her head, and soon finds herself yawning as well. Her eyelids feel heavy and already she wants nothing more than to sink into the pillow behind her and sleep for three years straight.

“You should rest,” Clarke says, repeating Lexa’s own words from hours earlier. Lexa nods slowly. She follows the blonde’s actions and removes her shoes and socks, finding herself somewhat more comfortable than before. After they are stored safely in her bag, she settles down into her pillow and pulls her blanket up to her chin.

Suddenly, Lexa feels a bare foot touch her leg and she nearly lets out a yelp of surprise. She looks up and finds that Clarke has stretched out her legs so that her feet rest on the edge of Lexa’s seat.

“Clarke?”

The blonde looks up, and Lexa can just barely see her eyes widen as she realizes what she’s done. She immediately goes to pull her feet away.

“I’m so sorry, it’s just a habit, I didn’t even - “

Lexa stretches out her own legs and feels the soft fleece of Clarke’s blanket cover her own cold feet. 

“Your feet are cold,” she says simply. Clarke smiles gently, and both of them lie back down, letting sleep pull them in shortly after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I don't know how long all the chapters will be, or how many there will be. I'm just figuring it out as I go. More to come soon!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the entire group is a bunch of nerds that are smarter than meets the eye, and Lexa struggles keeping her feelings mysterious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trust me this will go somewhere. Just got to build it up to get there, right?

Clarke Griffin, as temperamental as she could be, is not a hateful person. She hates very few things, and basically no people. (She doesn’t even think she could hate Azgeda, but they’re certain to test that theory every chance they get.)

However, the one thing that she loathes with the entirety of her being is a lovely little class called Pre-Calculus and Trigonometry. 

Fourth period was, at one time, where all of her good classes were. Creative Writing, Music Theory, and classes of the sort. Now, however, the legacy of Good Fourth Periods has been tainted by a class that Clarke is sure was created by the devil himself.

She sits with Octavia and Raven in at a table in the back left corner of the room, and homework is being assigned. The topic has her completely confused to begin with, and the thirty some odd homework questions isn’t helping the matter.

As always, Raven is practically glowing as she gets to work, her handwriting messy and nearly illegible as her mind is working faster than her hands can keep up with. Her eyes widen with focus, and the tip of her tongue stays in the corner of her mouth.

Clarke simply watches Raven, both admiring and envying her mathematical abilities. She is a STEM major in progress, whereas Clarke is an arts major without doubt.

“You planning on actually doing anything?” Octavia asks suddenly, bringing Clarke out of her trance. The brunette smiles as Clarke looks up with a hint of panic in her eyes.

“You’d have to understand the subject to be able to do anything, right?” she says, groaning. She lays her head down on the table, blonde hair splaying over the book and worksheet beneath her.

This gets Raven’s attention. She rolls her eyes as a smirk plays at her lips. She tries not to be egotistical, but sometimes, she just can’t help but be proud of her talents.

“Logarithm equations, Clarke. That’s all. Here,” she says, and the blonde looks up.

Raven slides her paper around so that Clarke can see, and she uses her pencil as pointer to guide Clarke through the process. 

“Logarithims? There’s an e, there, Raven, what the hell is that?” the blonde explains, exasperated. Raven bites her cheek to keep herself from laughing at the red lines that the book pressed into her best friend’s cheek.

“That, Princess, is the base of a natural log, ln. Just look at it like you’d look at a normal log. Like…”

Raven scribbles down an equation on Clarke’s paper in a normal log, then writes the same equation using a natural log and the natural log base “e.” 

“Same thing,” she says, looking up at Clarke. The glossy look in the blonde’s eyes gives way to understanding, and Raven continues to guide Clarke through the paper.

“Thank God I don’t have to count any higher than eight in music, or I’d never be able to do it,” Clarke says, smiling as she looks up from her work. Octavia stops and looks up at Clarke with an oddly serious look in her eyes.

“Oh honey, don’t sell yourself so short,” she says, and for a moment Clarke is concerned at the girl’s sincerity. “I bet you could count to ten if you really tried.”

Raven lets out a loud laugh that gets her the death glare from Mr. Pike, and she covers her mouth. Clarke rolls her eyes so far back into her head that she’s surprised she stayed conscious, but she’s secretly grateful for her friend’s teasing to keep a smile on her face.

\----

When the fourth period bell finally rings, Clarke moves faster than she can ever remember moving. She practically throws her book, homework, pencil, and headphones into her bag in one messy movement, surely leaving all of them a jumbled mess.

“In a rush?” Octavia inquires, raising her eyebrow as she slowly puts her belongings away like a normal human being.

“I hate this class and I want food,” Clarke responds, throwing her bag over her shoulder a bit too roughly. A metal ring connected to it hits her hip and she winces. 

“I’m starved. Look at this. I’m wasting away,” Raven agrees, patting her flat stomach. Octavia glances back and forth between her two best friends and rolls her eyes, then promptly turns aroudn and heads for the door, knowing they would follow. Clarke and Raven share a knowing smile, and Clarke wonders if people looking in on their friendship thinks they all secretly hate each other. None of the three are overly emotional and touchy, at least not for the majority of the time. Their bond is shown through feigned annoyance and a countless number of eyerolls a day.

By the power vested in some god shining upon them, the cafeteria was placed conveniently right across the hall from Pike’s room. Through the doors, Clarke can see Bellamy and Lincoln already reaching their table. Bellamy is carrying a book so thick that she presumes it weighs about the same as a small child. 

When they approach the table, Bellamy is banging his head repeatedly against the book.

“Bell, what is that monstrosity?” Octavia asks as she sits between her brother and her boyfriend, the two most important men in her life. Bellamy looks up and if looks could kill, Octavia would be severely maimed at the least.

“I decided to take Linguistics. That’s fun, right? Languages, history, cool. Right up my alley,” he begins, flipping pointlessly through the pages. Our table is called on to go get our food, and we all stand and head toward the line.

“So what’s the issue?” Raven asks, cutting Bellamy as they approach the tray center. He smiles slightly and rolls his eyes, which Clarke decides must be the only form of communication that she and her friends know. 

“There was no issue until they asked us to come up with our own language. The more we add to it, the higher our grade is. I have to create a language,” he groans as he picks up a fork and spoon. The menu for the day includes a quesadilla, chips and salsa, and various fruit choices. Not bad.

“So don’t make it harder than it has to be,” Octavia chimes in. Lincoln looks to her and raises an eyebrow.

“How?” he asks. His voice is soft, and Clarke wonders how many words he actually speaks in a day.

An idea comes to her mind, and she wonders if it’s the same idea Octavia is having.

“Derive it from modern English. Just make it really simple English, where a lot of things are spelled phonetically,” Clarke suggests. 

“Okay, I like where this is going,” Bellamy says as he grabs a bag of chips. He tosses one to Clarke, and she catches it with ease.

“Like...the word break, like breaking someone’s neck,” Raven says, and Clarke snickers at the violence of the brunette’s example. “The e and the a sound just like the sound that e and i make in the word eight.”

“So spell it with an ei instead of an ea?” Bellamy concludes, scanning his card.

The conversation is paused momentarily so that everyone can check out and return to the table.

“Anyway...yeah, exactly,” Clarke says, digging in immediately to her lunch. Her stomach growls just looking at the food.

“He said it can’t be too close to a language that already exists, though. What do I do then?” Bellamy asks, seemingly defeated at the realization.

“Make it different. Use a different format for things. Like.. okay, so we have break spelled phonetically. Break...free. Let’s say break free. Free him, whoever he is,” Octavia says, thinking out loud.

“Him sounds kind of like em. Maybe you could take away he and she and just use em. Break blank out. What sounds like out...Breik em au.”

“Au? Spelled like...a and u?” Bellamy asks, grabbing a pencil and writing in the front of his book.

“Exactly,” Octavia responds. Everyone seems impressed by her thought process.

“Dude...we should totally speak this language once we figure it out,” Bellamy says, smiling. The usual eyeroll ensues, only this time, every single person at the table does it.

“What are we, 12?” Raven teases. “Sure, Bell.”

“Sure...hmmm...sha?” He says, smiling like someone who has made a terrible joke and is waiting for everyone to laugh.

“Sha, Bellamy,” Raven responds.

Clarke smiles. She remembers the days that the four of them had spent growing up together. The backyard adventures, the places they went, the people they met, the secret languages come and gone. As they eat and a comfortable silence falls over them, she lets her mind drift back to their younger days and a fond smile stays on her face for the rest of the lunch period.

\---

The end of the school day comes much faster than Lexa expects, and she’s grateful for the speed at which the day had gone. She only enjoys three classes of the six she takes: English with Clarke and Costia, Zoology with Anya, and of course band in the morning. Her sixth period is one she loathes with a passion. She swears that if she has to write another logarithm equation in her life, she’ll explode.

The only good part of the class is the classroom’s proximity to the band room and the cafeteria. Lexa turns down the hall and heads towards the arts wing. Practice doesn’t start for another three hours, and she always stays after instead of getting home at 3:30 and having to leave an hour and a half later to be ready on time.

When she reaches the band room, the usual members of the Staying After Club have already beat her there. There’s not many, but there’s just enough to give Kane a reason to leave the band room unlocked.

In the smaller band room, usually not very populated by those who stay after, Lexa’s favorite instrument in the entire world sits calling her name. She walks into the room to find it empty of people, and the drumset has not been claimed yet.

Wasting no time, she sets her bag down and reaches inside for her drumset sticks. Like a true percussionist, she carries her sticks with her everywhere, no matter where she is. English? Gotta have them, just in case. Math? You never know when you’ll get just bored enough. Tutoring for a freshman class fifth period? Well, if one of them gets too annoying…

Lexa chuckles to herself at the thought as she sits down in front of the familiar setup. The seat beneath her groans at the sudden weight being pressed into it, and she wonders for a moment when and if anyone will ever give Kane the money for new instruments and tools. 

The phone in Lexa’s pocket vibrates with a notification from some app she can’t even remember downloading, and she clears it. An idea then strikes her. She reaches into her bag once more and searches for her headphones.

After a good two minutes worth of untangling, she plugs her headphones in and searches through her music library for one of her favorite songs.

She finds it and quickly puts her phone back in her pocket, then turns to the drumset.

“Hey Jude, don’t make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better

Remember to let her into your heart

Then you can start to make it better.”

The beat is simple, but Lexa loves playing along to songs no matter how simple or complex they may be. She adds in bits of her own, like a snare roll or a rhythm on the toms.

For those few minutes, she is in her own world and there is nothing but her and the music in her ears.

As the song comes to a close, she pulls out her headphones and looks up at the room around her. For the second time, she nearly lets out a yelp of surprise that is caused by none other than Clarke Griffin.

“I seem to have a habit of scaring you,” the blonde before her says, a tiny smile on her face as she sees how Lexa’s eyes have widened.

“Yes you do,” Lexa responds, putting the sticks back in her bag as she tries to will her heart rate to return to a healthy speed.

“What song was that...Hey Jude?” Clarke asks, walking closer to the drumset. Lexa leans back up from her bag and looks up to meet Clarke’s eyes which are bluer than she thinks she’s ever seen before. 

“How in the world could you tell that by the drumset part?” Lexa asks, thoroughly impressed. Clarke only smiles, this time a bit wider than what she has before, and says nothing. She turns around and searches for a chair to pull up next to Lexa, finally settling on broken spray painted grey one. It squeaks as she sits down, and Lexa hopes that it won’t break.

“You’re quite a musician, Clarke,” Lexa says. “I don’t know anyone else that’s been able to identify a song solely by its rather simple drumset part.”

“Don’t give me that much credit. It wasn’t because of the drums,” the blonde says, straddling the chair then leaning her arms on the back of it. She looks up at Lexa and hides her face behind her arms. Lexa can only hope that means she’s smiling.

“What, then?” the brunette inquires, raising one eyebrow at Clarke. 

She sits up so that her arms are no longer hiding her face, and sure enough, she’s smiling. Lexa bites her cheek to keep from doing the same.

“You were humming along,” Clarke says, and Lexa’s face heats up. She’s certain that it’s gone red, and she looks down to hide the smile that threatens to play at her lips.

She takes a deep breath and collects herself, then looks up to see Clarke smiling that same silly grin, but it’s smaller now. It’s more content.

“Do you play any other instruments?” Lexa asks, and Clarke nods.

“Guitar. My dad got me an acoustic when I was little. Seven, I think,” she says, that content smile becoming even more content. Lexa notes that she thinks of her dad with a certain fondness that she’d like to know more about later.

“Maybe I’ll have to hear you sometime,” the intrigued brunette says, tensing slightly when she realizes what she’s said.

Clarke’s goofy grin returns once again, and this time, Lexa allows herself a little smile. This makes Clarke smile even more, and Lexa’s heart flutters slightly at the sight of a rosy pink flushing the blonde’s cheeks. 

“Yeah, maybe so.”

They both know there’s no maybe about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me here! It starts picking up more next chapter. Also...AO3 has screwed up my notes on this, so unless it gets fixed, just assume that the first set of notes is the one I actually intended for this chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Competition number 2. Ontari sucks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are sort of starting to pick up now. Enjoy!

Lexa lets out a groan as she looks up at the time. Not only is their performance site in the middle of nowhere roughly a lightyear away, their performance time is the first of the day...one pm exactly. The drive is, in real time, three and a half hours. They have to arrive at 11:30 so that they have time to change and warm up. That puts them leaving at 8 am, eating a packed lunch on the way. 

Leaving at 8 am means that they have a lovely rehearsal time of 6 am sharp. Lexa wonders how many murders will take place this morning.

She walks into the band room slowly, trudging her feet. She wants to laugh at what she’s seeing. At 5:30 in the morning, everyone is an entirely different person. Well kept and pristinely dressed kids are reduced to messy hair and dark eyes, and some of the cheeriest people are silently sipping on various caffeinated drinks.

As usual, however, there are people who’s drinks have kicked in, and their energy far surpasses anyone around. Jasper and Monty are already bouncing off the walls despite their exhausted exterior. They’re going on and on about some camera they’re building, speaking far louder than what should be the legal limit for the early hours of the morning.

“Dear God, shof emo op…”

Lexa spins around, confused by the words she just heard. She is not at all expecting the sight before her.

Clarke is wrapped in her fleece blanket, and it flows behind her like a cape. She’s sipping on what appears to be black coffee and her hair is pulled into a wildly messy ponytail. Her eyes are dark and bloodshot from the fact that she wasn’t fully awake yet.

“What did you just say, if I might ask?” Lexa inquires gingerly, not wanting to speak loudly to the barely awake girl before her. Clarke turns to her and her eyes widen. She immediately straightens up and wipes at her eyes, trying to make herself slightly more presentable.

“Uh...Bellamy has to make up a language for his Linguistics class and we’ve all sort of been adding to it. That meant shut them up. Sounds kinda like English, right?” She explains, clearing her throat. It has a raspy quality to it that is oddly attractive.

“Yes, it does,” Lexa agrees, walking closer to her. 

“How do you manage to look presentable at this hour?” Clarke asks. Lexa scoffs, gesturing to herself.

She’s wearing baggy shorts, sweatpants over those shorts, a tank top that was slightly too big, and her hair is pulled back into a messy bun with little pieces sticking out all over the place. She’s sure that her eyes are dark and bloodshot just like Clarke’s.

“Is that a joke?” the brunette asks, and her newfound friend can only smile in return.

“No. Somehow you still look amazing.”

Lexa is certain that she’s having heart palpitations when suddenly her sister comes in to save the day.

“We’re starting inside, we aren’t going outside until 7. Just thought I’d give you both some good news since we’re in hell right now,” Anya says, a tiny smile on her face. “I know you both hate early mornings.”

“Not as much as I hate Pre Calculus, but pretty close,” Clarke replies, blowing air through her nose in a half hearted attempt at a chuckle. Anya perks up suddenly at the sound of Jasper’s and Monty’s excessively loud conversation about their camera and her eyes practically roll into the back of her head.

“I’m going to go take care of that,” she announces, and she heads toward the instrument room, almost stomping. Lexa manages a half smile at her pouty and grumpy older sister despite the way her heart still hasn’t calmed down.

“Want to claim the back seats on the bus again?” Clarke asks, a sort of hopeful tone to her voice. She shuffles her feet slightly and pulls the blanket up over her shoulders even further.

Lexa nods, and before she can say anything else, Octavia appears seemingly out of thin air and throws her arms around her best friend.

“Why so quiet, Clarkey?” she teases, talking entirely too loud. Clarke glares at her, and Octavia flashes a toothy grin.

“Alright, O, put your energy where it matters,” Bellamy calls from behind them. Lexa turns to see him walking their direction, an energy drink in one hand and both his and Octavia’s bags in the other. He looks surprisingly put together; even his hair is well groomed and his eyes aren’t nearly as dark as the rest of the band’s.

As he approaches the group, he smiles at Octavia, who is still flashing that toothy grin. Lexa admires the sibling relationship they have, and she sees the similarities between theirs and her and Anya’s.

“My sister, my responsibility,” Bellamy says, putting an arm around the sister in question. She takes a sip from his energy drink, and Clarke smiles at the pair of them.

“As disgustingly heartwarming as all of this is, we do have to get around. Shall we?” she asks, tilting her head toward the instrument room. Lexa notices that it has fallen nearly silent and smiles to herself as she thinks of Anya slapping Jasper and Monty both on the back of the head to hush them.

Lexa nods, and the others offer words of agreement. They head off toward the instrument room, but Clarke pauses before she leaves.

“See you on the bus,” she says, though her voice raises in pitch at the end of her statement, as if she is seeking confirmation.

“Sure,” Lexa assures. Clarke is about to walk off when she spins back around.

“Fun fact...in Bellamy’s language, we say ‘sha’ for yes.”

“Shof op Clarke, there’s no time for this,” Lexa says, trying to be as menacing as possible. She has no effect on the blonde, however, who simply smiles that goofy grin and walks off.

\---

One sleep-filled bus ride, a wolfed down lunch, warm up, and an incredible performance later, Clarke, Octavia, Lincoln, and Bellamy are walking off the field at Mount Weather High. 

Their bodies burn with the effort and energy put into the performance, but the adrenaline coursing through them keeps them from collapsing onto the pavement.

“That was so good,” Clarke says, practically dumbfounded. Her legs ache so much, and she wants nothing more to just lie down and not wake up for at least twelve hours. However, her excitement for awards slightly overpowers that.

“We done good,” Bellamy agrees, carrying his tuba in one hand as always. Clarke wonders if he secretly does it simply to show off, because she knows that he’s exhausted from the show and carrying that must be even more taxing on his arm.

“I’m dead. I’m alive but I’m dead,” Jasper says as he and Monty walk up to join the group. Clarke smiles. Though they didn’t hang out as much as the rest of the group, Jasper and Monty were still very much a part of it. They were just more best friends to each other than any group.

“That was amazing,” Monty chimes in, his face frozen in disbelief. 

It truly had been amazing. Never have they sounded as loud, clean, or in tune as they did then, and Kane’s pep talk before hand during a slightly shaky warm up caused everyone’s marching to be unbelievably strong. Clarke smiles as she imagines Kane walking behind his band, a satisfied smile on his face as his kids went on and on about how incredible their performance was.

They finally, after what feels like a three mile trek, reach the busses and the trailer. Everyone begins to shed their heavy uniforms and put away their instruments in a comfortable silence. Clarke decides to change back into her practice clothes, since they were slightly cleaner than the ones she’s wearing.

The second she steps on the bus, she is hit with a wave of cold air that could be compared to walking outside on a bitter winter morning in Russia. Though she hates the cold with all of her being, it is her biggest blessing at the moment.

She catches Raven’s eye as the brunette pulls a tanktop over head.

“What, too hot for you out there? I thought it’d cool off a little when I left,” she teases, her playful arrogance coming out. Raven’s self confidence level is one that Clarke has always dreamed of, and she smiles back at her. 

“I’m glad you came in here, your cold heart cooled the place off pretty damn well,” Clarke quips back as she walks toward the back of her bus where clean, dry clothes await her. She maintains eye contact with Raven, and giggles as the slightly older girl bites her cheek in an effort not to laugh.

Clarke puts her tanktop and shorts back on hurriedly, painfully aware of how much she wants food, but more importantly water. To her surprise, she needn’t walk past the busses to find it. Kane and her mom have set up a taco bar and bottles of water are sitting in coolers that lean against the bus she has just stepped off of.

“There is a God,” she says, and she smiles up at her mom.

“That was incredibly, sweetie,” Abby says, handing an ice cold water to Clarke. Clarke immediately guzzles half of it down in one drink.

“Thank you,” she replies. “I would hug you, but it’s still really hot out here.” 

Abby smiles and kisses her daughter’s forehead gently. “Go eat.”

No one has to tell Clarke twice.

“Hurry up, Princess!” Bellamy yells from his place behind the busses. Clarke quickly gathers her food and walks to the source of his voice. Her friends are already sitting there eating, joined by Costia, Anya, and Lexa.

“Princess?” Anya inquires as Clarke sits down between Lexa and Octavia. Raven soon follows and takes a seat between Lincoln and Jasper.

“When we were little kids with wild imaginations, Clarke was always the princess of some kingdom that I can’t even remember the name of now,” she says, and Jasper snickers. 

“That, and she pouted whenever she didn’t get her way, so Bellamy always called her Princess whenever she did,” Octavia chimes in as she takes a bite of her excessivley large taco salad.

“I sure shaped you up freshman year, though, huh?” Bellamy says, referring to how he had become section leader and Clarke came out as the strongest person in the section alongside him. The days of pouty and uncooperative Clarke ended then.

Lexa is giggling next to Clarke, which gets her a gentle elbow directly into the side. The brunette only laughs harder, rubbing the place where she was hit.

“Your friendship is disgusting,” Anya says after she takes a swig of her water. Costia smiles next to her.

“Absolutely revolting,” the dark brown haired girl agrees.

Everyone can’t help but smile, even Clarke. She turns to a still giggling Lexa.

“Oh my God, shof OP Lexa! What are you still laughing at?” She exclaims, despite the fact that she is laughing as well.

Lexa hides her face in her hands and tries to calm her laughter.

“It’s just...the thought of you in a pink frilly dress is too much,” she admits, and Clarke is tempted to punch her this time, but she can’t bring herself to. Instead she just eats her taco salad with a feigned annoyance that is given away by the gigantic smile on her face.

\---

“But like, how would we spell our names?”

Night has fallen, and the hours seemed to have flown by. Awards are half an hour away, and the night has been spent watching shows and talking inbetween them. Lexa can’t remember the last time she’s had this much fun, and she’s grateful that Clarke’s friends have seemed to take her in as well as they have.

“Everything in the language is phonetic, right?” She asks, and Raven nods.

“So...spell it like that. My name would be spelled ‘Leksa’,” the younger brunette continues, spelling out each letter.

Immediately, Bellamy starts to write down everyone’s names spelled out phonetically, and the result is pretty interesting.

_ Kostia _

_ Leksa _

_ Klark _

_ Okteivia _

_ Belomi _

_ Linkin _

_ Reivon _

_ Monti _

_ Murfi _

_ Neithen _

Anya and Jasper’s names are already as phonetic as they get, and Jasper seems slightly disappointed by this. 

“I want a cool name, too,” he says in a manner much like a little kid’s. Anya smiles slightly and catches his eye.

“We’ll be boring together,” she says, raising her twice-refilled bottle of water. He smiles, now, and raises his as well. They take a drink together. 

Anya looks at the time and notices that she needs to go join Costia on the track for awards. She departs wordlessly, only stopping to give her water bottle to Lexa.

Shortly after, Lexa spots a familiar blue and white jacket with the word “Azgeda” across the back. She tries her best not to complain audibly, but the death glare she gives in that direction is too obvious for the others not to notice.

Nia Kwin, whose last name oddly fits the phonetic spelling for “Queen,” sits down with her students in the stands next to the Arkadia students. Her very being sends chills down Lexa’s spine; she is more intimidating in person than her memory recalls. 

Her daughter, Ontari Kwin, sits in the seat nearest Lexa. The glare that the deep brown haired girl gives her almost brings out the worst in her, but Lexa takes the high road and ignores her.

“Lexa? You okay?” Clarke questions from her spot next to her. Lexa sighs and turns to face the blonde.

“Yeah, I’m good. It’s just our neighbors here,” she replies, lowering her voice to no more than a raspy whisper as she quickly glances to her side.

Clarke subtly peeks behind Lexa and sees the Azgeda kids, and her expression immediately hardens.

Before either of the two can say anything, the announcer’s voice booms over the loudspeakers. The chatter in the stands quiets immediately, and everyone turns to face the opposite bleachers. On the track below, there is the typical trophy table and the drum majors of all of the bands that performed that day are lined up waiting to be announced.

“Our first band of the day, from Arkadia High School, represented by Costia Keryon and Anya Woods...The Marching Commanders!”

Cheers erupt from the parent section on the other side of the bleachers, but not nearly as loudly as the cheers that erupt from the students on the musicians’ side. A smile crosses Lexa’s cheeks as she sees Costia and Anya try to keep a straight face as they walk arm in arm out onto the track.

Band after band is called out, and immediately it is clear to everyone there that the only true competition is between Azgeda and Arkadia.

“And now, our final band of the day, from Azgeda High School, represented by Roan Kwin and Semet Washington...you know them as Ice Nation...The Marching Warriors!”

The loudest roar thus far bursts forth from the Azgeda section of the bleachers on both sides, and Lexa notices that she is not the only one who struggles to maintain Kane’s expectation of sportsmanship and kindness. Clarke, per the usual, rolls her eyes and looks the other way.

Through the corner of her eye, Lexa can see Ontari do the same thing. She isn’t the only one who noticed, because Octavia tenses up immediately after.

It takes several minutes to climb up the list of about seven bands, but soon enough, a tense silence falls over the entire stadium as second place is about to be announced.

“In second place…”

Lexa isn’t sure if anyone around her is breathing. Bellamy and Octavia both have their heads down, eyes closed. Lincoln stares directly toward the press box, waiting for the announcer to say the words. Jasper and Monty have wicked smiles on their faces as they cross their fingers and look down. Raven and Clarke are both bouncing their legs, and it is the only sound that can be heard.

“Azgeda High School!”

As if by some telepathical understanding, the entirety of the Arkadial band stands up and cheers at the top of their lungs. The cheering does not stop for the bitter and angry looks being thrown their way from the second place band next to them. The cheering does not stop in the time between announcements. And it certainly does not stop when their name is called for first place.

Nia says nothing and stands rigidly, then promptly descends down the stairs. The rest of her band immediately follows her. Lexa takes a moment to chuckle to herself at the way they follow her as if she really is their queen.

Getting out of the stadium is always difficult, as hundreds of band kids are trying to leave at the same time. It’s typical to be bumped into or accidentally shoved. 

However, it is easy to tell when it’s an accident and when it isn’t. When Ontari Kwin reaches her arms out and shoves Octavia as hard as she can into the sharp edged and torn fence lining the stadium, it is not an accident.

Octavia cries out in surprise, and then in pain. A fairly large cut has formed on her arm. Blood immediately begins to drip from it. She doesn’t allow herself time to worry about that however, because before Lexa can even react to what Ontari just did, Octavia is charging towards her, fist raised.

Lincoln responds quickly, and he wraps his hands around his girlfriend’s arms, holding her back. The cut is bleeding enough for the blood to drip, and it spatters onto the sidewalk below.

“Ontari, what the hell?” Clarke snarls, and anger is lit like a fire in her eyes. Lexa has never seen Clarke like this, ever, and she knows it shouldn’t be attractive, but it is.

God. Why does she keep using that word in relation to Clarke?

She isn’t given the time to ponder her thoughts for long, because Ontari lunges for the blonde in question. 

Out of nowhere, Costia appears and steps between the two of them.

“Easy there, tiger. Mind telling me what the hell you think you’re doing?” she inquires cooly, and Lexa raises her eyebrow. She’s seen this side of Costia before, and if Costia weren’t drum major, it would be wise for Ontari to run.

“You do not deserve the win. We’re better and you know it,” the dark haired girl snaps back, stepping into Costia’s personal space. Lexa tenses, but someone else steps in before she can even think to move.

“What’s going on here?” Kane asks, his voice raised. He, Abby, and Anya were close behind Costia, and they’ve caught up.

Abby immediately notices Octavia’s arm and rushes over to her. She pulls out the miniature first aid kit on her hip and grabs for cotton balls, gauze, and tape.

“Does anyone have water?” She asks, and Lexa hands over the bottle Anya left her immediately. She pours it over Octavia’s cut, and she barely even flinches.

“We’ll have to clean this...come on, this won’t feel good,” she says. “I want the rest of you to come with me, too.”

Abby looks to Kane for confirmation, and he nods curtly. His rage with Ontari is evident.

Lexa looks over to Clarke, who still has a fire in her eyes that hasn’t died down.

“Come on...Kane will handle this,” she urges the blonde. Clarke looks over to her, now, and immediately her gaze softens. “Focus on Octavia.”

She nods. Lexa reaches a hand up and places it on her back, rubbing her thumb in circles to calm her down. She can feel Clarke’s breathing slow, and she smiles just the slightest, taking some strange sort of pride in being able to help her.

\---

The incident with Ontari causes Kane to be absent for thirty extra minutes, but they finally depart from the school at 9:45. Most don’t know what happened, or why they are late to leave, but no one seems to care. The happiness surrounding the win has not died down, and once Octavia’s cut is cleaned and bandaged and Abby has determined that she is going to live, the happiness returns to their group as well.

As Clarke settles down in her seat, grateful for the comfort of the pillow and blanket. The blanket smells of her father’s old cologne, and a wave of relaxation washes over her. (She's been buying bottles of it since he died and spraying the blanket so it would always smell like him.)

“It was strange to see you angry. I didn't know you could be,” Lexa says suddenly, only a voice in the darkness. Clarke can see her silhouette and a few details. Hair sticks out everywhere from her ponytail, and dark circles have formed again under her eyes. She is exhausted.

Clarke smiles slightly at Lexa’s words.

“I'm not a very fun person when I'm angry, I’ll warn you now,” she admits. She hears Lexa chuckle in response.

“No one ever is. Costia could tell you all about how much of a joy I am when I’m angry.”

Clarke smiles for some reason at the thought of an angry Lexa, storming around the room because of something someone did or because her Pre Calculus homework is just so stupidly difficult.

Silence settles between them, and Lexa’s eyes fall shut. They stay shut for a few minutes, and Clarke assumes that she’s fallen asleep. She leans her head back against the cool glass of the window and stares out into the now rainy night. 

Her eyes follow as the bus passes trees upon trees, streetlights, and a few bodies of water. She’s always loved to watch rain falling into a lake. To her, it is a metaphor. The water is falling in on itself, but it ricochets off the surface and jumps back up again. Though rain falling into water below is an ongoing cycle of falling in on itself and bouncing back, at some point, it always bounces back.

A quiet voice breaks Clarke from her philosophical thoughts.

“Do you think the sky cries because all of the life in the world is here on the ground?”

Sleep has begun to take over, but Clarke still manages a smile.

“It must be a lonely world up there.”

“Yeah. Must be.”

Clarke opens her eyes for just a moment to see Lexa’s breathing begin to even out. A content smile crosses her face as she is pulled into the world of her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes are fixed! I hope you enjoyed, any criticism is welcomed!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Literary analysis papers don't have to suck. Bad practices, however...that's a different story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very Clexa heavy, just as a fair warning. There's still things with the rest of the group, don't worry!

Of all the words Clarke doesn’t like to hear when she’s in class, “group essay” definitely ranks highly on the list. In fact, it may be number one. As someone who is set in the idea that if you want something done right, you should do it yourself, group work might as well be the death of her.

It is, however, is slightly more manageable when you’re able to choose who you work with. If you don’t have the choice to work alone, working with people you don’t hate makes the project minutely easier. When Mr. Jackson, her softspoken and incredibly kind English teacher, offers the idea of working with a partner of each student’s choice, Clarke feels less like he has betrayed her for making the class write a group essay.

She has nothing against writing essays. She doesn’t love them, most of the time, but she doesn’t hate them, either. As she scans the room, something in her decides that maybe this won’t be as terrible after all.

From the corner of her eye, she sees Costia and Lexa sparring. It doesn’t appear that either one is truly mad. Costia has a devilish grin on her face, and Lexa is trying her damndest to be intimidating to get her way. Suddenly, Costia grabs Lexa by the arm and begins to drag her toward Clarke. The blonde looks away hurriedly as if she hasn’t been watching the whole time.

“Costia, would you just -”

“Hi Clarke!” Costia says excitedly, her goofy grin never leaving her face. She is yet to let go of Lexa’s arm, and Lexa is glaring at her, almost pouting.

“Hi?” Clarke says. She doesn’t mean for it to come out like a question, but for some reason, it does.

“Lexa wants to know if you would like to work with her. I, of course, would have offered to share my literary wisdom, but Lincoln over there doesn’t like anyone else in this class, so I mentally agreed to work with him whether he knows it yet or not. So, she was thinking maybe you two could work together, but she’s too much of a chicken shit to ask you if you’d like to.”

“Costia Keryon, I’m going to duct tape your mouth shut fifty times over if you don’t walk away this instant.”

Lexa is fuming. Her cheeks are bright red, and her eyes are alight with a fiery annoyance that Clarke recognizes quite well. However, there’s a tad bit of a smile trying to play at her lips, hard as she might try to hide it. She’s not really mad at Costia...only temporarily annoyed at the older girl’s words.

Costia raises her hands in surrender and winks at Clarke, and the younger of the two can’t help but giggle childishly. Costia walks away, as requested, and finds Lincoln. A wave of relief washes over his face when he realizes he’ll get to work with someone he likes.

Clarke returns her attention to Lexa, who is running her fingers through her hair as her ears and cheeks are starting to return to normal color.

“So, you were af-”

“Clarke, this is already mortifying, and I hate essays, will you please work with me and shut up?” Lexa says. She tries to be angry, but she’s laughing too. Clarke’s giggles don’t subside; rather, they get stronger at her newfound friend’s response.

“Didn’t know you had it in you to be so commanding, Woods,” she says, and Lexa rolls her eyes. A true member of the clan, it seems.

“Yes, I would love to work with you,” Clarke admits, her voice taking on a softer, more bashful tone. Lexa looks back up to her and that little half-smile appears on her face. Clarke wonders for a moment what makes the girl so afraid to smile fully. She doesn’t dwell on the thought, however, because they do have work to get done, and the period is fifteen minutes away from being finished.

“Come on, sit down,” she says, motioning toward the now empty seat next to her. Lexa wordlessly sits in the seat and puts her bag on the corner of the table. She scoots herself up toward the desk and turns to Clarke.

“I’m sure you heard Costia say that I hate essays. I’m terrible at them. Free write? Great. I’ll write you something that’s probably not half bad. Analysis essays? I’m so bad. You don’t understand. I am SO bad,” she says, and then she stops herself. She must’ve noticed that she was rambling. She smiles sheepishly and takes a deep breath, and Clarke notices the slightest bit of pink creeping back into her cheeks.

“I’ll write the whole thing if you want, but you’re helping come up with the ideas,” Clarke orders, and Lexa raises an eyebrow.

“Oh?” she asks inquiringly, seemingly taken aback by the bossiness in Clarke’s tone.

“I’m not going to do all the work. I like you, Woods, but not that much,” she teases once again, and she swears she feels the desire to stick her tongue out at the girl next to her.

 _What are you, 12? Come on now, Griffin,_ she thinks to herself, willing that she gets it together.

“So you admit it. You do like me,” Lexa says, teasing back as though it’s natural for of the two of them. Clarke supposes that maybe it is.

“I mean… if I had to choose between you and a brick wall, I’d probably choose you,” she replies. This time, she can’t help the ridiculous grin that she feels coming on, and she smiles so wide it hurts her cheeks. The tip of her tongue pokes out behind her teeth. Her ear-to-ear grin turns to laughter when the brunette next to her grabs the nearest notebook she can find and smacks her with it.

“I do care about my grade, so let’s actually work,” Lexa suggests as she sets the notebook back on the table, and Clarke nods, reigning in her giggles so that she’s left with simply a content smile.

“We’ve only got a couple of minutes left now, so do you think you’d be able to come over after practice and get this done?” Clarke offers. She feels her heart race at the suggestion, and she can’t quite identify why. She curses herself for sounding so childishly hopeful, but Lexa doesn’t seem to mind.

“I’m sure Gustus would be okay with that,” Lexa replies, nodding. Clarke tilts her head slightly, and Lexa knows immediately what she’s asking.

“Gustus is my...guardian, I guess? I never knew my mother and father, and Anya only remembers them a little bit. They weren’t ready to be parents, and they knew they couldn’t provide for us anymore. We were taken to a foster home and Gustus found us about a month later,” she explains. Clarke admires how she doesn’t seem bothered by the fact at all.

“Does it ever bother you, knowing that they left you?” Clarke asks, and immediately she bites her tongue. She’s about to hang her head in her hands in embarrassment that she would ask something like that, but Lexa puts a hand on her shoulder.

Clarke looks up and is met with emerald green eyes that are much deeper than she remembers them being, and Lexa smiles that little half smile of hers.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind you asking,” she says, her voice taking on a tone that’s softer than Clarke is used to. “It used to bother me, but I know now that they only wanted what was best for us. And what was best wasn’t being raised under such poor conditions.”

Clarke is rendered speechless by Lexa’s forgiveness and understanding, and she swallows hard. A lump threatens to rise in her throat, but she doesn’t allow it to.

“Are you okay, Clarke?”

The blonde pauses for a moment, wondering whether she should say what was truly going through her mind, and whether Lexa would truly want to hear. However, the pleading and intrigued look in the brunette’s eyes causes the words to practically spill out of her.

“I was thinking about my dad. He died two years ago,” she admits, and Lexa takes in a sharp breath. “He and my mom got in a fight, and he drove off at two in the morning. He came back the next morning in a body bag after he was killed when he fell asleep at the wheel and drove straight into a ditch.”

She fights hard to keep her voice steady and her expression neutral, and for the most part, it works. Her voice cracks only on the words “body bag,” and she swallows her emotions down as hard as she can as she explains it.

Lexa must sense her emotion, because she rubs her thumb across Clarke’s shoulder gently and doesn’t ask anything else. Clarke takes a deep breath and looks to Lexa.

“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong,” she says, noticing the brunette’s worried eyes. “I wanted to say.”

Lexa nods. Though the nod is curt and short, the softness of her features does not change, nor does the position of her hand.

The bell rings suddenly, bringing them both out of their trance. Clarke shakes her head a little to rid herself of the fog of emotion, and she manages a smile for the brunette.

“I’ll see you at practice?”

Lexa smiles back, and this time, Clarke’s smile grows into a real one.

“See you then, Clarke.”

\----

Lexa watches as Clarke leaves the room, headed toward wherever he next class is. She can’t will herself to take her eyes off of her.

“You’re crushing so hard. You haven’t said someone’s name that much since we were dating.”

Lexa jumps, startled by the sudden voice. Costia is at her side, watching Clarke go as well. She turns to look at Lexa, and the taller of the two meets her eyes.

“Oh, stop. I am not.”

Costia practically snorts at the response, and Lexa can feel her ears go red.

_Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit._

“Yeah, okay. I suppose the stars come out during the day, too, don’t they?” Costia smirks back, that same devilish grin on her cheeks as she looks up at Lexa.

Lexa rolls her eyes but scolds herself mentally for the smile that comes upon her cheeks, and Costia lets out a loud “HA!”

“They do sometimes. Like...in the morning,” Lexa says, feebly attempting to deny the darker haired girl’s accusations. She gathers her things quickly, realizing they’d been standing in the room for two minutes, and they had only four to get to their next respective classes.

“That was a pitiful attempt at an excuse. You poor thing.”

“You’re going to be late, Costia,” Lexa calls, already heading down the hall. She hears the other girl laugh.

“Acceptance is the first step!”

\----

If John Murphy doesn't shut his mouth in three seconds, Lexa is almost certain that she's going to knock him out with a drumstick. Better yet, she's going to take off her tenors, muster the strength to lift them over her head, and bash him in the head. Either or is fine.

The rehearsal hasn't been productive to begin with, and no one needs Murphy pointing it out to know that. After school rehearsals are always somewhat difficult, because no one has had time to decompress from the stress of school. Their minds are still reeling with thoughts of languages and equations and essays to write.

“Ai na bash em op.”

The use of what Lexa is starting to recognize as Bellamy’s language brings her out of her angry fog. Raven looks no more pleased than she is, and her muttered words prove that they're both thinking the same thing.

“Chil yu daun,” Lexa replies, catching the other girl’s attention. Raven glances up at her, snare sticks clenched so tightly in her hands that her knuckles are turning white. She visibly relaxes as she meets Lexa’s gaze.

“You're learning,” she says, a small smirk on her lips. Kane is occupied yelling at the front ensemble for their messy runs, so they're able to sneak some conversation.

“I am. It's quite useful, really. No one knows what we’re saying.”

Raven nods, and she stills. Lexa turns and realizes that Nyko, the percussion director, is giving them both a warning glare. He's a very kind man, and knows they're good students, but tonight is not the night to cross him.

Kane’s voice suddenly booms over the loudspeakers, taking everyone by surprise out of whatever thoughts they were in.

“You are all better than this. I expect tomorrow night to be much better. You are dismissed.”

This kind of end to the night is uncommon for Kane; Lexa can only remember one other time in her three years as a musician in Arkadia’s band that he has ever ended the night without talking to the group in the center of the field. She can read from the hard lines on his face and the way his shoulders are squared and fists bunched that he is truly and thoroughly pissed. He storms down the stairs of the bleachers and heads straight inside, not even stopping to speak with the staff as he typically does.

No one really moves on the field at first, but suddenly, all hell seems to break loose.

“Murphy, if you had just shut up and let them work, this would’ve gone so much better. We know it was a bad practice, we didn’t need you telling us too!” Raven says, breaking the silence. Murphy turns around, his trombone dangling by two fingers in his right hand, and the look on his face is anything but amused. His eyes are slightly closed and he has an eyebrow raised as if asking if she was finished.

But no, of course, she was not.

“Don’t give me that look. You know it’s true,” she quips, agitation rising in her voice. Before Murphy can respond, the sound of metal clanging on metal pierces through the air, and Lexa’s attention is drawn to Octavia. She’s shoved past Bellamy and Lincoln, and in the process, knocked her trombone on Bellamy’s tuba. It isn’t damaged, luckily, but she’s clearly angry.

“Great, add that to the list of things that went wrong tonight,” she mutters, checking over the instrument a second time to ensure that it isn’t dented. Lexa realizes she’s still holding her sticks in her hand and gently places them in her stick bag on the side of the drums. She decides that holding drumsticks in her hand when tensions are rising might not be the smartest of her ideas.

When she looks back up, Octavia has finished looking over her horn and is starting to walk away.

“Well, if you’d been a bit more focused, there wouldn’t be such a long list,” Bellamy calls after her. Lexa internally groans, because if she knows anything about Octavia, it’s that she has a fire in her that can’t be put out by anyone, maybe not even Lincoln. Bellamy’s comment was like pouring gasoline into it.

Octavia whips around to face her brother.

“Forgive me, I have a lot of homework to do and my arm is still healing and I’ve got a lot else on my mind, so sorry I couldn’t be perfect today,” she says, raising her injured arm as if to prove her point. There’s still gauze wrapped around it, and it’s reopened at some point during rehearsal. Spots of red stain the material.

“Octavia, you know I don’t ask for perfection, but your head wasn’t in it. That’s all I was saying,” Bellamy says, his voice taking on a slightly colder tone.

Lexa notices out of the corner of her eye that Clarke has made her way over to the group, and she suddenly is somewhat concerned at the idea of her being involved in this fight on an already stressful night.

“And you’ve never been out of it, have you?” Octavia quips back. She’s stepped into her brother’s space, unafraid of him and his authority on the field. Bellamy looks up slightly and clenches his jaw, and his free hand settles on his hip in agitation.

“No, not really, because I know better,” he says.

_Bad idea, Bellamy._

“Okay, so you’ve never had a bad day? You’ve never missed a step off? You’ve never played a wrong note? Because you’re so goddamn focused, right?” Octavia snaps, and her voice is now raised. She’s bordering yelling, but she’s not quite there yet.

Lexa wants to step in, but she knows it isn’t quite her place. Clarke, however, might be able to step into the situation. She glances in the blonde’s direction, and her jaw is set as she watches her two friends fighting over pointless things.

“Now you’re just being over-reactive. You’re making this into -”

“Sorry, Mr. Perfect, the one who brought this up in the first place.”

“God, Octavia, will you just stop? Go put your stuff away and we’re going ho-”

“I am not a child, do NOT treat me like one!”

Clarke rolls her eyes and runs her fingers through her hair angrily. Lexa swears she hears a tiny growl as the blonde walks forward and steps between the two of them.

“Okay, both of you, that’s enough!” She says, her voice ringing through the emptying field. A few stragglers turn around at the sound of Clarke’s voice, but Lexa shoots them a glare that they understand the meaning of very quickly. They turn around and continue walking.

“It’s been a terrible night, we don’t need you two fighting on top of it, and neither do you, for that matter,” Clarke says, lowering her voice to a strong but calmer whisper. Still, if Lexa was in either of their shoes, she wouldn’t dare speak up against her.

Bellamy, however, does not appear to think the same.

“Clarke, this isn’t your place,” he mutters, lowering his voice to almost a growl. Lexa’s never heard that tone from him before, and she raises an eyebrow in surprise. Raven stands silently next to her and mimics the same motion.

Clarke doesn’t hesitate in her response.

“Chil yu daun. Nau.”

Bellamy simply sets his jaw and walks away. Lexa is first impressed by the way he just listened to what Clarke said without questioning her, and is secondly concerned by the fire still burning in Clarke’s eyes.

“I’ll let you handle this one. You get to be heda on this,” Raven says, glancing toward the fiery blonde. At first, Lexa doesn’t recognize the term, but she quickly deduces that it means leader.

So basically, she’s saying it’s Lexa’s job to handle angry Clarke. For some reason, the thought brings a bit of a smirk to her lips.

“I’m going to murder someone,” Clarke says as she approaches. “What’d Raven say?”

Lexa can’t help but smile. She and Clarke begin the journey inside, seeing as they’re the last two on the field and they do still have work to do.

“One, no time for murder, we have a project to do. Two, she told me I was heda on this one. Meaning you’re my responsibility,” she admits, and this time, Clarke smiles, too.

“What is your command, Heda?” She asks mockingly.

“Mockery is not the product of a strong mind, Clarke,” Lexa says in the most intimidating voice that she can muster as she holds the gate open for the blonde trailing behind her.

“Mockery is not the product of a strong mind, Clarke,” she replies, her voice taking on a higher pitch. It’s very - ironically - mocking.

Lexa lets out a full laugh, one she has not laughed in a long time, and she takes a moment to revel in how good it feels to let herself truly laugh.

\---

When the two of them reach Clarke’s house somewhere around 6 o’clock, the first thing they smell when they walk in the door is dinner being cooked. As Clarke closes the door behind them, she takes in a deep breath through her nose as the smell of pasta drifts through the air.

She holds out her arm to take Lexa’s jacket. Lexa quietly thanks her and hands it to her, and Clarke hangs it on the coat rack just inside the door. She does the same with her jacket, then takes off her shoes and sets them beneath the rack. Lexa follows suit, and the two of them head into the kitchen.

“Hi, sweetie,” Abby says as Clarke walks through the door first. When Lexa walks through, she’s a bit surprised, but doesn’t make anything of it. Clarke realizes she may have forgotten to tell her mother about the essay they were going to be working on that night.

“Hi, Lexa. What brings you here?” Abby asks as she stirs together the pasta and sauce. Clarke can smell that it’s a red sauce, and she hopes that it’s the kind that her mother always adds loads of mozzarella cheese to. Pasta, red sauce, and cheese is by far Clarke’s favorite dish.

Lexa stands somewhat awkwardly. Her hands are folded in front of her waist, and her back is straight seeing as her heels are touching. It’s clear that she’s uncomfortable, or at the very least nervous.

“Relax, Lex, nothing to fear,” Clarke says. She places a hand on Lexa’s shoulder and the brunette visibly calms. Her expression softens and her shoulders slump slightly. Her hands unfold from in front of her and she instead leans on the counter as Clarke is.

“Oh, honey, don’t be nervous, I don’t bite. Come get your food and we’ll have dinner,” Abby says, and Clarke can’t seem to move fast enough. Her stomach growls as if on cue, and she’s almost certain she hears Lexa’s do the same.

The three of them are seated at the kitchen table with pasta and garlic bread a few minutes later. Clarke wastes no time in digging in. She practically moans with delight as she takes the first few bites, having not eaten a very good lunch and then worked harder than normal at practice. Lexa smiles as she chews and for some reason, it’s one of the cutest things Clarke has ever seen. The two of them meet eyes, and Clarke smiles, too.

“So, what lovely school project are you two stuck with doing tonight?” Abby asks, taking much more human sized bites of her pasta. She must be used to seeing kids eat the way they do, because for whatever reason, band kids have an appetite that can only be quelled by huge bites and fast eating.

Lexa swallows and clears her throat. Clarke licks her lips and waits for Lexa to speak as her fork twirls mindlessly in the pasta.

“We have to write an essay for English. Literary analysis,” Lexa says, and her displeasure is evident. Abby smiles.

“Oh, have fun, those are always enticing,” she responds, sarcasm dripping from her voice. She takes a sip of water and looks over to Clarke.

“They’re not THAT bad,” she says, and Abby and Lexa share a glance that Clarke can only identify as the “she’s insane” look. That look is typically shared by Abby and all of Clarke’s friends at some point, so this is nothing new. She can’t help but smile at the idea that Lexa is now officially a part of that group.

The rest of dinner goes quickly but comfortably. They talk about the rehearsal and how terribly it went, and Lexa mentions how surprised she was by Clarke’s authority. Abby insists that she gets it from her, and Clarke wouldn’t doubt that. Jake was the type of dad that let his kid do anything she wanted, whereas Abby took no shit and was going to get her way no matter how much Clarke pouted.

“Well, thank you for dinner Mrs. Griffin, it was delicious,” Lexa says at the end of the meal, and Clarke snorts. Abby gives Lexa a half smile as she takes her bowl.

“Lexa, you’ve been calling me Abby for three years now. You can still do so even while you’re here,” she says, and Lexa smiles bashfully. Pink creeps into her cheeks and Clarke wonders how she never noticed before what a nervous dork Lexa truly was. Her bashful ways remind Clarke of a puppy with its tail between its legs, and she stifles a giggle at the thought.

Clarke thanks her mother for the delicious meal. She and Lexa then head upstairs to work on the essay. She silently thanks her past self for deciding to clean up her room a little bit this morning.

As soon as she gets in the door, Clarke flops down face first onto her bed, and exhaustion washes over her. Lexa shuts the door behind them with a quiet click. Clarke can only imagine the amused smile on the brunette’s face when she notices Clarke’s position.

“Well, I’ve never seen this technique for writing essays before.”

Clarke rolls over just enough to be able to see Lexa, who’s standing at the foot of her bed, arms crossed, and that damn amused smile on her face. Her eyebrow is arched in a way that makes her smile even more taunting than Clarke imagined.

“When is it due again?”

Lexa looks up as if trying to remember, then looks back to Clarke. “It’s not technically due until Friday when we walk in the door. And we technically have three hours after school tomorrow to work on it before practice.”

This time, it’s Clarke who smiles. She rolls over completely so that she’s on her back, leaving space for Lexa to come join her.

Lexa raises her eyebrow again, this time in question as if she’s asking for confirmation that Clarke is insinuating what she perceives her to be. Clarke nods, and Lexa hesitantly walks toward the bed, but stops.

Clarke tilts her head questioningly, but then follows Lexa’s eyes to find that she’s eyeing the acoustic guitar leaning against the bed.

Wordlessly, Clarke reaches her hand out toward the guitar. When Lexa realizes she has no intention of actually getting up to get it herself, she rolls her eyes and gently picks it up and hands it to her.

Clarke pulls the pick out from its place between the strings on the top fret and strums a few chords, and Lexa sits down on the bed gingerly.

“Didn’t know it was possible to play laying down,” she says, and Clarke looks over to her and smiles, stilling her hands on the guitar.

“Now you do. Come on, lay down. You must be exhausted,” she insists, patting the spot next to her. Lexa sighs and nods, sinking down into the cushioned mattress and abundance of blankets. Her eyes nearly fall shut and Clarke is certain she’s going to fall asleep at some point this evening.

“Was this whole after school ploy just a way to get me into bed, Clarke?” Lexa teases, and Clarke is taken aback by her words. She never coined Lexa to be a flirting type, especially not in this way, but she’s not going to complain.

“Are you flirting with me, Heda?” she quips back, and Lexa smiles, this time almost showing her teeth. Clarke is determined to see what her toothy grin looks like. She’ll make sure of it.

“I’d almost forgotten about that whole thing. Raven’s such a smartass,” Lexa says, opening her eyes and looking over at Clarke. Something about them seems softer and much less...guarded.

“Yeah, she is...but you’re avoiding my question,” Clarke replies, raising an eyebrow now. She can’t help the smirk that sprawls across her face at the way Lexa seems nervous.

“And if I am?”

Clarke’s heart flutters for a moment, and it must register on her face, because Lexa breaks into a grin and chuckles to herself.

“I’ll take that as a good thing,” she says, eyeing the blonde. Clarke smiles back softly as her fingers fumble with the guitar still in her hands.

“And if it is?” she inquires, turning back to the guitar. She plays a familiar chord progression and Lexa recognizes it immediately.

The brunette says nothing. Instead, she simply smiles and listens to Clarke play, and she soon finds herself humming along.

_Hey Jude_

_Don’t be afraid_

_You were made to go out and get her_

_The minute you let her under your skin_

_Then you can start to make it better_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments! Much appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movie night. Enough said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning...this chapter is quite long, but gets a little shaky toward the end. Life happened and made this chapter hard to finish, but the next few chapters should be much better written now that things have settled down. I may come back and edit this chapter, we'll see. I hope it is enjoyable regardless!

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

Lexa knows she should be paying more attention to her math teacher standing before her trying to explain the day’s lesson, but her focus is anywhere but schoolwork. Her pencil bounces absentmindedly on the notebook beneath it, and she can’t find it in her to care about the glares she’s receiving. She keeps shuffling her feet and changing her position in her chair.

She notices that she isn’t the only one who seems to be having trouble staying focused. On the other side of the room, Jasper and Monty are whispering back and forth, and Monty keeps looking up at the clock.

Five more minutes. Five more minutes and they can leave.

Normally, Friday nights mean football games. Those are fun, don’t misunderstand...but they’re exhausting. The weather tonight is going to be anything but comfortable, and is in fact the coldest night they’ve had all season. Luckily, however, they’re not going to be forced to go to this game. This is their only game off all season.

As soon as Kane told them of their time off on Thursday, Bellamy and Octavia immediately suggested a movie night. Movie night, however, doesn’t mean going home at the end of the night. Rather, it’s going to be a giant sleepover.

The goal is to watch three movies, each of which likely range anywhere from an hour to two hours long. Clarke told Lexa that it was the same routine for every movie night: one love story, one horror movie, and one obligatory Disney movie, and it had to be a musical. This had been their way since they were in middle school, and it was not about to stop now.

The decision on which movies to watch had been finalized after practice the night before. The love story was to be Titanic, the horror movie was to be Insidious 3, and the obligatory Disney movie was to be none other than Beauty and the Beast. Though Lexa hates horror movies to a certain extent, she’s not at all disappointed by the selections. After all, it would be the first movie night she’s had with friends for as long as she can remember.

The bell finally rings, and Lexa, Monty, and Jasper rush out of the room immediately. They are wordless as they head to the band room, where they surprisingly find majority of the group already waiting.

Somehow, with God’s guidance, they were all to fit into Bellamy’s Jeep. Bell, Octavia, Lincoln, Costia, Anya, Clarke, Jasper, Monty, Lexa, and Raven. Ten people in a four person vehicle, five if you’re lucky.

“Okay, so here’s how this is going to work. I’m driving. My car, no one else’s,” Bellamy announces as they all herd out to the Jeep. Lexa and Clarke turn to him, awaiting further instructions.

“Lincoln, you’ll ride shotgun with me. Octavia, you’ll sit on the floor in front of him. Tinted windows are a blessing. The back windows are even more tinted. So...here’s how we’re going to fit six of you in the back,” he continues, a devilish grin on his face. Lexa raises her eyebrows, concerned by what he’s about to say.

“I don’t care how you do it, but three of you are sitting in the seats and three of you are sitting on laps, and one of you has to volunteer to sit on the floor.”

“FLOOR!” Raven exclaims, raising her hand to solidify her point. The second Bellamy unlocks the Jeep, she jumps into the back seat and makes herself comfortable in a spot on the floor directly between the two front seats. She leans her head back against the console.

Bellamy, Lincoln, and Octavia pile in after her in this respective places. Lexa can't help but chuckle as Octavia peers up over the window and grins, knowing that now, the decision of lap-sitting has to be made.

“Jasper and Monty, me and Anya, Lexa and Clarke… We’re good!” Costia announces, and the four of them climb into the Jeep. Monty sits on Jasper’s lap, and Costia sits on Anya’s.

Lexa imagines slapping every single person in that Jeep, because it seems that she and Clarke have been set up.

Without question, Clarke climbs in first, almost kicking Raven in the face in the process. The smaller brunette threatens to punch her in the crotch if she gets almost kicked again, and Lexa lets out a snort. Clarke glares at her, and Lexa bites her cheeks to keep from laughing.

“You coming, Lex?”

Anya catches her sister’s eye and raises an eyebrow at the nickname. A quick glance upward reveals Costia replicating her current seat’s expression.

“Oh both of you, shush,” Lexa says, walking toward the Jeep.

The likelihood of being able to climb into it without causing bodily harm to either Clarke or Raven is slim to none, so she apologizes in advance. Her intention is to gracefully get in and sit down without crushing anyone. That plan, however, is ruined when she not-so-gracefully trips and falls directly onto Clarke’s lap, and is only saved from knocking someone out by the blonde’s arms wrapped around her.

“We good? No one’s injured?” Bellamy asks from the front, smirking at Clarke. Clarke sticks her tongue out at him and he rolls his eyes.

“Just Alexandria’s pride. We’re good,” Anya says, and this time, Lexa does punch her sister. This is not uncommon behavior between the two of them. Every time Anya uses Lexa’s full name, it is met with an injury of some sort.

Clarke has still not let go of Lexa, so she tightens her grip just slightly to get the brunette’s attention.

“Alexandria?”

“Bellamy, DRIVE.”

\---

When they arrive to Bellamy’s house, it’s a little after 3:30. They have about six hours total of movies to watch, and they don’t have to wake until roughly 8, considering call time is not until 10 this weekend. Clarke thanks the marching band gods above that for once, they get to wake up with sunlight streaming in through the windows rather than waking before the birds do. This late call time is also a blessing in the sense that this means staying up until midnight will not cause them to become honorary members of The Walking Dead cast in the morning.

“Is everyone okay with an early dinner at 5 so that we can start movies a little before six?” Octavia asks as they all climb out of the Jeep. The air feels chilly to Clarke as Raven opens the door and Lexa steps out, and she figures that the lack of body heat on her lap is likely the cause. Raven follows Lexa out, and Clarke comes out next.

“I’m pretty sure none of us ate much of a lunch today. That was the sorriest excuse for a burrito that I’ve ever seen,” Jasper pipes up, and murmurs of agreement spread through the group. Clarke can’t deny his accusations, because she’s fairly certain she only ate two bites of it before giving up on it.

“I promise dinner is better than soggy burritos. I’m grilling hamburgers and hot dogs, and the rest of you are in charge of making french fries,” Bellamy says, and Clarke raises an eyebrow, wondering why he trusts any of them with the task of cooking.

“Anya and I will do it. Jasper, Monty, if you get anywhere near that oven, you’re getting sprayed with the sink hose,” Costia announces, shooting a warning glare at the mischievous pair. She makes a good point, because mixing the two of them with things that can be flammable usually ends in a fire. They raise their hands in surrender and feign being offended.

Octavia unlocks the front door, and everyone files in. Shoes and jackets are deposited in their respective locations immediately, and Clarke notices the same awkwardness and tension that Lexa showed a couple of days ago at her house for the “essay.”

“It’ll be fun, don’t worry,” she offers, placing a hand on one of Lexa’s folded arms. The brunette looks up at her and visibly relaxes. A small smile spreads across her face at Clarke’s words.

“Where’s your mom, Bell?” Raven asks as they head into the grand, open kitchen. The house is decorated in tones of gold and burgundy that Clarke has always loved. Memories of her childhood flash through her mind, such as running into this very same kitchen at full speed for an afternoon snack.

“She’s with a friend until 8 tomorrow morning. She’s giving us the house so we can be as loud as we want,” Octavia answers for him, since he and Lincoln are already heading out to clean the grill. Raven smiles deviously, and Clarke wonders what her long time friend has in mind.

By now, Clarke has gathered that Costia and Anya are not shy people, and are in fact the complete opposite of Lexa. They don’t have to be told twice that they’re welcomed, because Costia is already in the refrigerator looking for potatoes, and Anya is asking Raven where she might find a peeler and some bowls.

Jasper and Monty disappear into the living room, talking excitedly about some game that Bellamy told them they could play until dinner. Clarke laughs to herself at the realization that the two of them are essentially the children of the family.

“You two might get to do the dirty work, but Mama gets to add the spices. Leave the mixing to the scientist,” Raven says, raising an eyebrow at Costia and Anya, who are already opening the bag of potatoes and cleaning them.

“Easy there, don’t go all Heda on us now,” Anya says, peeling a freshly cleaned potato with a finesse that leads Clarke to believe that she does majority of the cooking in the Woods household.

“That’s my job,” Lexa chimes in, speaking for the first time in minutes. She leans against the countertop and rests her head on her hand. Clarke smiles as she realizes that the brunette has settled just a bit, and feels a bit more at home.

“Your job is also to go with Clarke and unload the trunk,” Octavia says, tossing Bellamy’s keys to Lexa. Lexa catches them with ease, and Clarke is impressed at the girl’s reflexes. She turns to Clarke.

“Think you can beat me outside?”

“Is that a challenge, Griffin?”

“Yu no na win au!”

The two of them take off, and Clarke struggles to keep up with Lexa’s agile movements. She practically bounces of the walls, whereas Clarke’s steps are stumbling.

\---

Despite Clarke’s challenging, Lexa easily beats her to the Jeep...and back inside. Marching tenors has given her just as much body strength as Clarke, but it has also given her agility that Clarke has not yet possessed.

The race is long forgotten, however, as dinner has come and gone and the movie night is soon to begin. First, of course, the proper attire must be worn.

The girls all change in Octavia’s room, and Lexa appreciates the fact that marching band has forced them all to do so many times in front of each other, or this would have been terrifying. She is a reserved individual, and marching band was the only thing to break her from that.

Clarke pulls on a t-shirt that’s far oversized, and it comes down to the middle of her thighs. Lexa lets out a snort at the fact that, if no one knew she was wearing shorts beneath the shirt, it would look as though she were pantsless. As Lexa pulls on a muscle tank to go along with her sweats, Clarke asks what she finds so funny.

“You look pantsless,” Costia interjects simply, and Clarke rolls her eyes with the tiniest of smiles and digs through her bag for a tank top that resembles Lexa’s. She quickly changes into it and raises an eyebrow.

“Better?”

Costia nods, and Lexa appreciates that her best friend and her crush (so Costia seems to think) are getting along.

Of course, the boys are already seated somewhere on the couch or the various bean bags and chairs brought into the room. The four of them share the same “why do girls take so long to get ready” look, but it is ignored as everyone chooses a place to sit. Octavia plops herself down on Lincoln’s lap, and he smiles and wraps his arms around her. He places a gentle kiss to her cheek, and Lexa admires the gentleness in their relationship despite the strength of each of them.

Raven sits next to Bellamy, who smiles down at his childhood friend fondly. Anya and Costia choose two of the bean bags set next to each other and lean back, wasting no time in making themselves comfortable.

Considering that Jasper, Monty, Bellamy, and Raven have taken up most of the room on the l-shaped couch, the only option for Lexa and Clarke is the end piece of it, which is like a recliner that’s attached to the couch itself. There’s enough room for the two of them to sit, considering their hips are fairly narrow, and they both seem to agree on claiming that spot without words.

Blankets are divided evenly between the ten of them. Costia is wearing quite possibly the warmest outfit Lexa can ever recall her wearing, so she doesn’t take one. Anya, clad only in a tank top and shorts, graciously accepts the fuzziest of the blankets. Jasper and Monty have each brought their own, and the fact that they’re Batman and Superman blankets does not surprise Lexa in the least. This leaves three blankets for six people, and the math is simple.

As Clarke catches the blanket thrown her way by an already covered Raven, she sits down and holds the blanket up so that Lexa can crawl in next to her. She realizes that they misjudged the amount of space in the recliner, because, for the second time that night, Lexa ends up in Clarke’s lap.

In reality, she isn’t completely in the blonde’s lap. Rather, her legs are resting on top of Clarke’s, and their midsections are shoved together mildly uncomfortably.

The now shivering brunette pulls the blanket over the two of them. She feels Clarke shift and pull her arm out from the squished space. Without discussion or thought, Lexa leans forward and Clarke’s arm wraps around her shoulders.

“Alright, Anya and Costia, pick a movie to start with and put it in,” Bellamy says, and Lexa notices that he has wrapped his arm around Raven as well.

_See? Friends do this. This is fine._

“We literally JUST sat down,” Anya whines as Costia lets out a groan of feigned agitation. The irony is obvious; the two hardest working people in the entire band are now whining about moving a few feet for no more than thirty seconds.

“My condolences,” Raven teases, and Costia rolls her eyes in true fashion of the clan.

Through means of “pick a number,” the Love Story is chosen first. The three hour movie is popped into the DVD player, and the lights are shut off. The room is left dark, except for the light from the bright LED screen that takes up majority of the wall they’re facing.

\---

Everything goes smoothly for the first part of the movie. Clearly, the way everyone handles soppy and lovey-dovey things is by mocking it. Clarke appreciates the way even Lincoln and Octavia add their share of making fun of the romance between Jack and Rose.

In the drawing scene, Jasper splays out across Monty and puts on an absolutely horrendous French accent.

“Draw me like one of your French girls, Monty,” he says in a high, girlish voice that Clarke is certain will scar her forever. The laughter that resounds through the room is one of her favorites sounds she’s ever heard, and she takes a moment to pray that she never has to stop hearing it. The happiness coursing through her bubbles over into giggles when Monty shoves Jasper off the couch, and he nearly lands on top of Costia and Anya.

The humor, however, does not last for long. After all, a movie about a boat sinking can’t be very cheerful for much of it.

“First person to cry has to clean the living room tomorrow morning,” Anya says, and a resounding chorus of “deal” echoes through the room.

The deal is held up by everyone until Rose jumps back into the boat after almost being sent off in a lifeboat, leaving Jack behind.

“You’re so stupid Rose! Why would you do that?” Jack asks frantically, grabbing Rose’s face and kissing her repeatedly.

“You jump, I jump, right?” Rose says, and Jack looks at her like she put the stars in the sky before agreeing with her.

A sniffle catches Clarke’s attention, and she looks around for the source. Next to her, Raven is hiding her face in the crook of Bellamy’s arm.

Despite the depressing images flashing across the screen, Clarke can’t help but to let out a full belly laugh at her friend. Such a tough exterior, but such a baby at the same time.

“I’ll kill you, Griffin,” Raven threatens, but her voice is watery. Clarke only laughs more.

“You’re so sympathetic,” Lexa says sarcastically, and Clarke looks up to meet her deep chocolate eyes. Even in the darkness, they still stop her in her tracks enough to get her laughter to subside.

“Oh just wait,” she replies, knowing that come Jack’s death scene, she’s going to be a blubbering mess. She hopes that Lexa doesn’t mind and still finds her a decent person to look at afterward.

Clarke is not wrong. As soon as she sees Rose calling Jack’s name as she’s lying on the door and he’s floating in the water, she feels a lump rising in her throat.

“There’s a boat, Jack,” Rose says, her voice strained and desperate as she shakes her love, willing him to wake up.

She looks up and sees the boat passing by, and says nothing. Instead, she rests her head on the door and her eyes fall shut as she grips tightly onto his hand.

“Who wrote this music? This is emotional manipulation,” Costia says, and it’s evident in her voice that she’s crying. A quick glance around the room reveals that no one, not even the boys, has dry eyes.

Clarke’s heart stops for a second at the sight of a teary-eyed Lexa, and the brunette looks down at her. She can’t help but smile, and Clarke lets out a watery giggle.

“Shhhh,” Lexa says, smiling as well. She presses her index finger to Clarke’s lips, then gently lets it down as she turns her head back to the screen.

They all get through “I won’t let go Jack” fairly well, with maybe a stray tear falling here and there. However, the ending scene...that’s an entirely different story.

The dark screen turns to light, and it is evident that they’re back on the ship.

“Don’t do it,” Clarke says, knowing full well what’s about to happen. She’s seen the movie half a million times, yet the scene leaves her a wreck again and again.

She feels Lexa shuffle next to her, and she smiles when she realizes that Lexa has moved closer. She’s scooted down slightly so that she can hide in the same way that Raven was hiding in Bellamy’s shirt.

Clarke giggles a little bit and feels a gentle flick to her side in response. Both of them turn back to watch the screen.

The camera is panning to the Grand Staircase, and people line the path to the stairs themselves. The music swells into the familiar tune of “My Heart Will Go On,” and several sniffles resound through the room.

Jack stands at the top of the staircase. The violins began playing a rhythm that builds and builds. Jack reaches out his hand, and a soft, fair skinned hand reaches up toward him. The camera pans right and reveals Rose, young and beautiful once again.

The music swells once again to a new height as the two share a kiss, and everyone surrounding them breaks into applause.

Clarke breaks, and a sob forces its way out of her throat. She feels a wetness on her neck and through the tears she begins to laugh.

Her eyes scan the room, and she finds that no one else is in a much better state. Jasper and Monty have their blankets pulled over their heads, but their sniffles aren’t fooling anyone. Costia and Anya both have their heads down, and Clarke can hear Anya whisper an unamused “shut up” to the also crying girl next to her. Octavia has her face buried in a tearful Lincoln’s chest, and he’s running his hands through her hair, whispering that it’s just a movie.

“But it’s so GOOD!” she insists, which brings a tiny smile to Lincoln’s face.

Bellamy and Raven are both rubbing at their eyes, but even in the dim light, Clarke can see the wetness on their cheeks.

“You guys are pathetic,” Lexa says, and her voice is watery and whispery. Clarke can feel her smiling into her neck.

“You’re no better,” Anya teases back, and she runs her thumbs across her cheeks. Clarke notes that it’s the most teenage girl thing that she’s seen the older blonde do.

“God, feelings are disgusting. It’s horror movie time,” Costia says, sniffling as she does so. She leans up to the TV and ejects the “Titanic” DVD.

Lexa finally pulls out of Clarke’s neck and meets her gaze. The blonde can’t wipe the little smile off of her face, and Lexa smiles back, though she rolls her eyes as she does so.

“Friends, right?” Clarke says, raising her eyebrow. Next to them, Bellamy snorts, and Lexa shoots him a death glare.

“What? You and Raven are doing the same thing,” Lexa points out, and Raven smiles.

“I don’t give Bellamy heart eyes everytime I look at him. Excuse denied.”

That shuts both Clarke and Lexa up as they turn back to the screen.

\---

The horror movie goes over just as Lexa expects it to. She, Clarke, Costia, and Octavia are absolutely terrified almost the entire time and jump before a jump scare even happens. She is amused to find that all four of them have quite possibly the girliest screams that have ever existed in all of time and space. Bellamy, surprisingly, is just as scared as they are. Once, and only once, he lets out a scream not much manlier than her own squeal, and Lexa is certain that Raven and Octavia are never going to let him live it down. Lincoln can’t seem to stop laughing at his macho best friend’s little moment, and Bellamy threatens to make him sleep outside.

Raven, Anya, Jasper, Monty, and Lincoln spend the entire movie mocking the characters. They jump a few times at the best jumpscares, but other than that, they are completely unaffected. 

“Why does everyone in a horror movie walk straight toward the source of the scary thing? Normally, when there’s danger, you run the OTHER direction,” Raven rants, and Bellamy clamps his hand over her mouth. Of course, this does nothing, because she licks his hand in true childish form and he wipes it on her shirt.

It’s nearing 11 when the final movie is put in. Alas, the obligatory Disney movie.

As the opening monologue begins, Jasper stands and begins to mouth the words in a theatrical manner. Lexa giggles at the realization that he has these words memorized completely.

Before they know it, the movie becomes less of a movie watching and more of a musical performance. 

Despite being band kids for a reason, they’re not all half bad at singing. Lexa has known that she can carry a tune quite well all her life, and Clarke appears to be in the same boat. Bellamy and Lincoln have strong, deep voices that carry the basslines in the numbers. Raven and Anya have alto voices, Costia and Octavia have mezzo sopranos, and Jasper and Monty...well, that’s an entirely different story. 

“Be our guest, be our guest, put our service to the test! Tie your napkin round your neck cherie and we’ll provide the rest!” they sing expressively, attempting and failing at French accents. Jasper pulls Octavia off the couch out of Lincoln’s arms and tosses a blanket over her front as though he were tying a napkin around her neck as the song suggests. Octavia rolls her eyes and smiles at her childish friend, and he winks at her as he continues to sing.

The rest of the movie continues as theatrically as the first part of it, and Lexa wonders whether they’ll have any of their voices left at the competition the following day. 

As the movie comes to a close, the energy in the room begins to die down. The exhaustion from the day settles over the group, and by the time the credits roll, Octavia is already dozing off in Lincoln’s arms. 

Costia reaches up and ejects the disk, then turns the screen off. Darkness falls on the room, and the only source of light is the slivers of moonlight streaming in from the huge windows behind them. 

A comfortable silence fills the room, and Lexa’s eyelids feel heavy. Clarke is resting against her side, and her breathing is slow but steady. 

“I suppose we should all brush our teeth and go to bed, considering we have to be awake in seven hours,” Anya says from the floor below. Lexa can see her sister’s silhouette sprawled out on the bean bags, Costia settled near her in a fetal position. Lexa has always been grateful that despite her and Costia no longer being partners, the friendship that she and Anya had built didn’t fade in the least.

Fifteen minutes later, everyone has returned to where they were before, now sporting minty fresh breath and no longer greasy faces. 

“I don’t want to move. Any objections to just sleeping here?” Raven says from her place curled up into Bellamy’s side. His eyes are already shut as he is leaning back into the couch.

“Not at all. I’m exhausted,” Monty says. He stretches his feet out behind Jasper, and Jasper stretches his feet out in front of Monty. Lexa knows that this is bound to someone being kicked in the face, but then figures that they’ve had so many sleepovers together that they’ve got this down to a science. She smiles at the thought.

“Should we all set an alarm for 8?” Lincoln asks through the darkness. A silent agreement is made between the group, and a collective groan sounds as the lights of phones are suddenly so much brighter than they were six hours ago.

Ten set alarms later, the clock is nearing half past one and the heaviness in Lexa’s eyelids is only growing. She looks over at Clarke, who has her arms wrapped around Lexa’s middle and her head nuzzled in the brunette’s neck. Lexa wonders if it is the darkness that gives them the courage to be so close so quickly, or if it is the fact that their friends are just generally this close, so why can’t they be?

“Is this okay with you?” Lexa asks quietly, her voice only loud enough for Clarke to hear.

Or so she thinks.

“Of course it’s okay with her, Heda, she’s been heart eyeing you all night,” Raven bravely speaks up from her place next to them. A resounding snort of laughter fills the once silent room and Lexa can feel her ears go red.

“You’re gonna wind up dead if you keep talking, Raven,” Clarke threatens, her voice vibrating against Lexa’s collarbone. Now, it is Lexa who lets out a snort.

Raven is silent for a moment, then speaks again.

“We should call you Wanheda. You threaten to kill everybody, and we already know that dead is wan op, like wind up dead,” she says. “Good job, Griffin, you just got yourself another nickname.”

“I’ll take Commander of Death any day. Anything is better than Princess,” Clarke mutters, her voice low and raspy with exhaustion. Lexa smiles and wills her heart to be still.

After a few more silent moments and adjustments so that they can lay comfortably, Octavia speaks.

“We should call ourselves Skaikru, since we have a space show,” she suggests through a yawn.

The name leaves Lexa with a warm feeling that she can only identify as a sense of belonging. She has never been one to have a group of friends, only her sister and Costia. The change is welcomed, and she finds herself wrapping her arms around Clarke as her gratefulness fills her.

“Reshop, Skaikru,” Bellamy says, half asleep.

“Reshop.”

Lexa turns to say something to Clarke, but the blonde has already fallen asleep buried in Lexa’s neck. Her chest rises and falls slowly and rhythmically, and Lexa takes a moment to appreciate the peaceful expression that has settled upon Clarke’s face. 

The last thing she sees before sleep takes her over is a stray strand of blonde hair that moves gently every time she lets out a breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conflict is soon to come. You have been warned.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabotage is fun. Not really, actually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is a little bit shorter than the other chapters, but I hope it's still enjoyable!

Clarke is startled awake by the sound of ten alarms going off simultaneously, various songs and alarm tones overlapping into one excessively loud wake up call.

The body that her arms are wrapped tightly around stretches out of habit, and she is almost knocked in the face before the brunette remembers her presence.

“Good morning, Skaikru. Get your ugly butts up, we have work to do today,” Anya calls as she’s walking down the hall. She’s already dressed, and Clarke raises an eyebrow in question.

“She always wakes up early,” Lexa explains, voice scratchy and deep from sleep. Her voice is slightly muffled by the hair that has fallen all in her face, and she reaches up to push it back. It falls over one shoulder elegantly, though the natural, messy curl in her hair is evident.

A loud yawn sounds from the seat next to them, and Bellamy’s mouth is opened wide. His eyes are red and bloodshot, and they have dark bags beneath them.

“Up an’ at ‘em,” he says. His voice is deeper than Clarke can ever remember it being, and she realizes that this was their first sleepover in years. The thought of the previous night brings a tiny smile to her face.

While everyone is beginning to unravel themselves from various people and stand to stretch their kninked limbs, Costia is yet to move. She’s pulled her blanket over her head.

Clarke watches in something she can only identify as adoration as Lexa tiptoes over to the barely awake girl, presses her finger to her lips as she meets the gaze of her confused friends, and pulls the blanket off of Costia in one swift movement.

“ALEXANDRIA WOODS AI NA BASH YU OP SO HARD YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY EVER AGAIN!” Costia exclaims, jumping up from her spot on the floor. Her hair is a dark brown, curly, crazy mess, and Clarke giggles as Lexa meets eyes with the now-awake girl, then promptly tears down the hall toward the bathroom like a toddler. Costia rolls her eyes and runs her fingers through her tangled mane.

“Well, that’s a good start to the morning,” Monty says quietly, peering out from under his blanket. He has yet to stand from his spot on the couch.

His comment leaves everyone in the room with a content smile as they begin to get around for the competition day ahead.

\---

The morning rehearsal goes quickly, though it is a full three hour rehearsal. One in the afternoon comes quickly, and the September sun leaves the air comfortably warm without being blisteringly hot. Lunch was to be packed or brought and then taken onto the bus, but before departure, Kane calls the band into the band room.

The lights are off, and the room is illuminated by sunlight streaming in through the windows. The band, small but still one hundred students strong, covers the floor in variations of sitting crosslegged or lying down. Kane is nowhere to be found quite yet; he is likely doing last minute checks so that after they talk, they can leave immediately.

“Why do we always pick the competitions that are three hours away?” Raven asks as she sits between Monty and Jasper. Lexa notes that it makes sense for the three of them to get along so well, considering they’re all mechanics or engineers in their own way.

“No idea, but I’ll take any extra hours of sleep I can get,” Octavia announces, and she yawns as if on cue.

They must all look terrible. Six to seven hours of sleep is enough to easily carry them through the day, but a long day before that short night of sleep and a long day following it makes so little sleep not quite sufficient.

“Amen,” Bellamy says to his sister. The dark circles beneath his eyes that Clarke mentioned this morning have not gone away.

Their attention is drawn from their exhaustion and pointed toward Anya and Costia walking into the room, likely preceding Kane. The two of them plop down in the middle of the Skaikru and turn to murmur hello’s.

As suspected, Kane walks into the room shortly after. He seems quiet and reserved, something not unlike him. This, however, seems different to Lexa. She’s not worried, but she’s curious about what Kane wants to say.

He stops in front of the podium that the band has naturally formed arcs around. His hands rest on the plastic on which box upon box of pieces sit.

“Don’t worry. This is not a bad speech at all. In fact, I intend for it to be a very good one. A very special one.”

Kane only gives speeches before departure for special reasons. Usually, they talk before the first competition and the last few. Lexa imagines that the reason they don’t talk more is to keep the speeches special and meaningful. She wonders, then, why he would choose a competition in the midst of the season to speak to them.

“Today is a particularly difficult day for me, personally,” he begins. The room is now completely silent, and he holds the attention of every student around him. “Many of you may know why from previous years.”

Something seems to click in Clarke’s eyes, because they turn solemn and shadowed with sadness. Lexa doesn’t question it and instead continues to listen.

“When I was your age, I had a director named Thelonius Jaha.”

The name triggers a memory in Lexa. She pictures an old, dark-skinned man, with a curly graying beard and a smile that could bring peace to anyone he met.

“Some of you may remember him from your first or second year here. As for you sophomores and freshman...I’m sorry that you never got to meet him. He passed two years ago today.”

Kane is in silent remembrance for a moment before he continues.

“Jaha started as a very strict and almost dictator like director. I remember that at one time, I completely hated him. He seemed to show no compassion toward anyone and his only goal was perfection.”

Kane smiles slightly to himself at the irony of his words.

“As I grew older, however, something changed. No one can really identify why it started, or hardly when, but his entire demeanor changed. He seemed peaceful and loving in a way that I had never known. I didn’t grow up in a very kind home. For a long time, school was no different because of him. But when he changed…”

Kane swallows hard, the emotion evident in his eyes. His eyebrows arch upward, and he bites the inside of his cheek to maintain his composure.

“Thelonius Jaha taught me the definition of love and compassion. He went from yelling at me for my failures and inability to understand the music to treating me with patience and kindness as I learned. He spent hours of his time building me into a musician far beyond my years, as he would say.”

“It wasn’t until later that I realized that he built me into a man, too. So I called him, years after my graduation. He was still teaching at the same school I grew up in, but was soon to retire. I offered that he come visit here and see the man he practically raised me to be.”

“He loved this band and every person in it. He told me he was proud of who I had become, and he was proud to see the kind of kids that I was raising.”

“I will never forget the last thing that he said to me.”

Kane’s voice breaks, now.

“He told me to keep those you love close to you, to hold on to them. Time is fleeting, and you should never waste a second treating someone with unkindness. He regretted the years he spent being angry and impatient with his students and wished only that he could have more time to treat them better. He wished that he could have more time to hold onto his students whom he truly loved.”

Lexa hears a quiet sniffle from the blonde next to her, and she turns to find Clarke’s cheeks and nose a bright red. Her mind wanders to the day that she was told of Jake Griffin, and assumes that to be the reason behind Clarke’s emotion.

“Thelonius Jaha said this to me the day before he passed. Since that day, I vowed to listen to his message and pass it on to you one day, when it felt right. There seemed to be no better day than today to do so, in his honor,” Kane concludes.

Lincoln reaches out and places his hand over Octavia’s, and she links her fingers with his in silence.

“No matter what happens today, know that I am proud of you. And somewhere, in a beautiful city illuminated by Heaven’s light, Jaha will be looking down upon you and will be proud of you, too. Not for your performance. But for your sense of family. That is what is most important.”

Kane gives a moment to allow his words to sink in, then quietly dismisses the seniors to load the bus.

“Hod in,” Costia says quietly from her seat near Lexa and Clarke.

Her words catch Lexa’s attention, as well as her sister’s. Anya pauses before heading to the bus to see what Costia means.

“We hold those we love close to us, right? So love...should be hod in,” she says. Her voice takes on a tone much softer than usual, one Lexa has heard only on occasion.

Bellamy smiles at her suggestion and nods. “I think that sounds perfect.”

“Ai hod yo in, Skaikru,” Costia says after a beat, and there’s a reverence in her eyes that shows that she means what she says. Lexa realizes that Costia, like herself, has never grown up with a group of friends, either. They are just as special to her as they are to Lexa.

“Oso hod yu in, seintaim,” Octavia replies, and Lexa can’t find the words to describe the level of gratitude that Costia shows on her face in that moment.

\---

The happiness and peace of the early afternoon does not last into the night. The bus ride down is wonderful and is spent napping in and out while talking to whoever is awake, and warm up goes smoothly. However, when the time to perform actually arrives, everything falls apart.

Firstly, rain begins to fall in transition from warm up to the field itself. As they pass Azgeda on their way off the field, Clarke wonders why their white war paint has not begun to run down their faces in the falling rain.

“Waterproof, of course it is,” she realizes, and she rolls her eyes, going against Kane’s protocol of a stone face in transit to the field.

The rain is soon to be the least of their problems however, because when Costia’s hands come down for the downbeat of their first movement, the voiceovers that are meant to play do not. As Clarke marches hesitantly, suddenly feeling uncertain in the movements she’s replicated time after time, she notices that she can’t hear the front ensemble either. This means only one thing...the power to the mainframe is out, and the electronics that both play the voiceovers and amplify the front ensemble can’t function.

It is then that Clarke realizes how much she and the rest of the band depended more on the voiceovers and extra sounds than actually counting. The lack of cues that everyone has been relying on leads to missed stepoffs, coming in both early and late in the music, and an overall lack of togetherness that’s certain to make for a terrible look and sound up above.

As the last chord of Jupiter rings out, Clarke does not feel the same rush that she normally does. This rush is different. Shame and disappointment courses through her veins, and her horn snaps down much harder than she intends it to. She bites her lip in an attempt to stifle the yelp of pain that threatens to break free and the burn of a certainly pulled muscle in her shoulder.

Despite the horrendous performance, they still march of the field in perfect formation, and their posture is impeccable. If Kane can be proud of anything, Clarke thinks, it’s that they didn’t let anyone see that the performance got to them.

That is, until they got back to the semi.

Even between the closest of friends, there is an unsettled and angry silence as everyone undresses and puts things away. Clarke feels bad for the way she storms off the bus to put her uniform away while Lexa is still changing, but she hopes the brunette will understand. After all, Clarke didn’t miss the way her jaw kept moving back and forth as she threw her various pieces of her uniform together on the hanger.

As the fuming blonde jumps onto the trailer to put her uniform away, only jumping up so effortlessly due to the adrenaline pumping through her, she overhears Kane and Anya talking.

“Kane, look at this! This isn’t rain. Rain doesn’t slit a protective casing over a cord, reach inside, and fray the connections,” Anya hisses. Her hair is matted down to her face as though she hasn’t even bothered to push it away yet. There is rage in her eyes that Clarke has not yet seen.

“Anya. You know it isn’t right to assume that a person is at fault just because -”

“She’s right, Marcus,” calls a familiar voice. Clarke quickly hangs her uniform and places her shako box where it belongs. She catapults over the barrier between the uniform area and the equipment area to see what’s happening.

“What do you mean?” Kane asks as Abby steps out of the shadow caused by the semi truck door. She’s holding the orange cord that Anya claims has been tampered with by a person.

Near her hand is a series of white spots, and Clarke quickly recognizes that it appears to have been made by a hand wrapping around the cord. As Clarke steps closer, she can just barely see the lines that would be found on someone’s palm in the paint.

Closer inspection to the tampered with spot itself reveals white paint on the frayed cords inside the orange protector.

“Azgeda.”

Clarke whips around. Octavia is standing next to her, staring down at the damaged cords.

“Who else do we know that wears white paint?” the brunette says, raising an eyebrow in inquiry. Kane opens his mouth to speak, but pauses.

“Well, how do you explain why it didn’t wash off?” he asks after a beat, turning to face them both. He crosses his arms in defense.

“It’s waterproof. That’s why it didn’t wash off when it started raining when we passed them in transit,” Clarke says cooly, the pieces clicking together now.

Kane sighs and lets his head hang slightly, and he knows that there’s no way out of this. Azgeda sabotaged their performance no matter how much he’d like to deny that. Clarke admires how much he wants to see the good in others, and she wishes, for Jaha’s sake, that he didn’t have to face the bad today. Not today.

Abby looks to Kane expectantly, as if questioning what they should do with the information.

“I don’t think we should tell the kids. It’ll just cause more tension between us and Azgeda,” he says, his eyes pleading as he looks to Abby.

“No, they deserve to know. Mr. Kane, I know you don’t want tension or unrest, and I respect that, sir, I do,” Bellamy says, seemingly out of nowhere. He has joined Octavia. He must have overheard the conversation while putting away his uniform and instrument.

“But they deserve to know that they’re being treated unfairly. And we both know it isn’t the first time.”

Kane sighs, knowing Bellamy is right. Everyone is silent as they wait for him to make a decision.

“I need to go speak with Nia. I’ll let you three deliver the news. I trust you won’t let things get out of hand,” he says, giving them a look to make sure his point was clear.

“Yes, sir,” Bellamy says. Clarke notes that he is the only one who calls Kane ‘sir,’ and she wonders when that started and why it did.

Kane nods, then looks to Abby. She seems to understand him, for the two of them carefully jump down from the open door to the sopping ground and head toward Azgeda’s trailer.

“I’ve got our bus,” Clarke says immediately, wanting to be the one to deliver the news to their closest friends. In reality, she is concerned about Lexa...she had seen the way the girl had been fuming then; she wants to be there when Lexa finds out about the sabotage.

Octavia and Bellamy nod, heading off to the other two busses.

Clarke walks to the bus they all ride and steps on. It’s surprisingly silent. No one seems to be talking to each other at all.

“I have news, and you’re not going to like it,” Clarke announces, her voice a bit too quiet for everyone to hear. She clears her throat, and even from the back of the bus, she catches Lexa’s eyes.

“It wasn’t the rain that fried the power system. It was Azgeda. Someone tampered with the cord that powers everything and there’s white paint to prove it,” she says.

The jaw thing, again.

“Let’s stay on the busses until Kane gets back, okay?” Clarke says, wanting to wrap up her announcement as quickly as possible so that she can get back to Lexa. Silent nods ripple through the bus, and she takes that as her cue to leave. On her way back to the back of the bus, someone flips off the lights, and Clarke silently thanks them.

Lexa sits silently in the seat, eyes forward, body still. Her hands are balled into fists, and Clarke decides it might be best to sit in her own seat and give Lexa space.

Conversation begins to fire up again, and soon, the bus is rather loud. The excess sound must be the last straw, because Lexa draws her fist back and plummets it into the seat in front of her, hissing out a “jok” as she does so.

Clarke is surprised at how unfazed she feels by the brunette’s actions. Instead, all she wants to do is sit calmly and wait for her to make a move to speak.

“First, we all screw up because we don’t know how to count for ourselves. That’s one of the most fundamental things we learn as musicians and we didn’t do it, because we didn’t think to put in the effort. We depended on the sound system working so much so that we couldn’t even pull off a show without it, and we should’ve been able to. I should’ve been able to,” she rants in one heavy breath. As she speaks her last sentence, she inhales deeply, eyes still darting side to side, jaw still moving back and forth.

Clarke’s heart aches for her. She never knew how much the brunette expected out of herself until now.

“Lexa…”

“And now, to make matters worse, we find out Azgeda sabotaged us? We did nothing to hurt them, but they sabotage us the first chance they get?”

Lexa runs her fingers through her hair impatiently, and her eyes fall shut. Her breathing is heavy and labored as she runs her hands across her face and rubs at her eyes in agitation.

Clarke decides against her previous better judgement and slowly slides into the seat with her. Lexa doesn’t protest. Instead, she simply hangs her head in her hands.

Clarke’s palm rests on the brunette’s thigh, and her thumb runs across it gently.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

Lexa doesn’t respond, and Clarke doesn’t mind. They sit like that for a few more moments, and Clarke tentatively wraps her arms around Lexa’s heaving shoulders.

Lexa tenses for a moment, then lets all of the air out of her lungs in one heavy sigh. She works to slow her breathing and absently leans into Clarke’s arm.

“Who told you that you have to be perfect all the time, Lex?”

For a moment, Clarke regrets her question, because Lexa tenses again. She sees her jaw clench for just a moment, but one swipe of the thumb across her shoulder and the tension settles.

“That’s for a different day, Clarke,” Lexa says, and Clarke doesn’t protest.

She turns her head so that she is facing Lexa’s forehead as she peers out the window. Kane is yet to return, and she’s secretly grateful to have a little more time before they have to go to the bleachers for the award ceremony.

“You’re more than enough, Lexa,” she says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes fall shut and before she can think about what she’s doing, she presses her lips gently to Lexa’s forehead.

Immediately, she tenses, realizing what she’d done. What if Lexa didn’t want that? She’d never said she did, and suddenly, Clarke is terrified.

In the dim light from the streetlights outside the bus, Clarke can see the green of Lexa’s eyes as she looks up.

Clarke melts instantly. Lexa is looking at her as if she put the stars in the sky, and it’s as if her insides are set aflame. A warmth courses through her that she has never known, and her heart begins to beat rapidly.

Lexa’s lips part slightly, as if to say something, but then close again. Her eyes dart between Clarke’s, as if searching for something. Clarke looks back intently, and she feels her arm tighten around the brunette’s shoulders.

The action brings Lexa slightly closer, and suddenly, it’s too close. Clarke shudders as she feels Lexa’s breath on her chin, and their eyes never tear away from each other.

Clarke’s heart feels like a jackhammer in her chest, and the closeness becomes unbearable. Before she can do anything about it, however, Lexa’s hand is reaching up behind her neck and pulling her down.

Their lips crash into each other, but in a way that can be compared with crashing into a cloud. Suddenly, all of Clarke’s senses are alive. Lexa’s lips are soft, so soft, softer than anyone else’s she’s ever kissed before. Her thumb is so gentle as it runs across Clarke’s cheekbone. The smell of her skin is intoxicating, and the warmth of being so close to her is making Clarke dizzy.

Lexa pulls away first, seemingly out of need for air. Her breathing is shaky and ragged, much like Clarke’s own. The rapid beat of her heart is yet to slow.

Clarke leans up to kiss Lexa’s forehead again, more confidently than the time before. Lexa does not move her hand from behind the blonde’s neck.

“Friends don’t do this, Clarke,” Lexa says, once she can regain her breath. Clarke smiles, and she feels as if she is in a drunken haze. Everything around her feels blurry, but it’s the best thing she’s ever felt.

She doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, she places a gentle kiss to Lexa’s lips.

“I don’t want to be your friend anymore, Lexa,” Clarke says, shuddering again at the sensation of Lexa’s breath on her lips.

The brunette scoffs.

“How rude,” she teases, and Clarke can see the hint of a smile playing at the lips she can’t tear her eyes away from.

In true Skaikru fashion, Clarke rolls her eyes and gently shoves Lexa away, then quickly pulls the brunette back into her arms. Lexa does not protest and she nuzzles her head in the blonde’s neck.

\---

The awards ceremony goes as well as Lexa can expect it to. Of  course, Azgeda is announced as the winner of the competition. The expressions of disgust and disdain are painfully evident on the people of Arkadia’s faces. They are not sore losers, but they are not very sympathetic to sabotage.

They come in second, miraculously, despite their bumbling performance. Lexa wants to question it and analyze it, but she knows that this will come first thing Monday morning, so she accepts it for the moment. Clarke smiles next to her at the somewhat good news.

The bus ride home is quiet, nearly silent. The only conversation on the bus is kept to a barely audible whisper, which makes for a fairly content Skaikru.

“Reshop,” Bellamy whispers. The back five or six seats have been claimed permanently by those in their friend group, and Lexa is grateful to not have to deal with anyone except them at hours so late as these.

“Reshop.”

Clarke is in her seat, but instead of leaning against the wall, she has curled herself up so that her head is on the pillow at the edge of the seat nearest the aisle. Lexa is in the same position, her legs dangling somewhat awkwardly over the edge of her own seat.

Clarke props her head on her elbows and looks up at Lexa, her blue eyes glimmering in the light of passing streetlights.

“Second place isn’t too bad for being sabotaged, huh? Bet Azgeda is kicking themselves,” she says sleepily. Her voice is heavy and her words are slightly slurred.

“Shhh,” Lexa says, shushing the blonde peering up at her.

Clarke understands. She smiles and nods as best she can, but Lexa knows what she’s trying to do.

The two of them stay in silence for a while, the only sound being the tires on the pavement and the bus’s grumbling engine. As they come to a stop, there’s a slight hiss from the brakes.

Clarke’s eyes are falling shut, and she seems to notice it too. She leans forward, and Lexa closes the space between them by pressing a gentle kiss to Clarke’s forehead.

“Reshop, Heda,” the blonde says, smiling up at Lexa with a look in her eyes that Lexa has never known.

“Goodnight, Clarke.”

There’s a quiet snicker from the seat in front of them, and Anya’s voice is unmistakeable.

“Raven, I win the bet.”

“Jok.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally :P


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sinus infections and history could be an absolutely horrendous mixture, but not if you're with the right people.

There are a few things that Clarke is absolutely certain of. One, she hates sinus infections with all of her being. Two, she will never stop thanking Kane for cancelling the after school rehearsal due to the rapid spread of said illness throughout the band. (They had such a good performance at their fourth competition the Saturday before that he figured a break wouldn’t hurt them.) Three, hanging out with a bunch of sick people trying to heal is probably not the brightest of ideas. Four, it’s absolutely happening.

 **Belomi:** _i know Jasper and Monty have work to do on whatever it is they’re doing, but with practice cancelled, anyone down for hanging out at our place for the night instead?_

 **Anya:** _you’re going to willingly surround yourself with a bunch of sick people?_

 **Belomi:** _immune system of steel. linc and I will be fine. you guys, however, are whiny little toddlers when you’re sick and probably need to be babysat for the night._

 **Heda Leksa:** _cute. anya and i will be there_

 **Anya:** _thx 4 letting me speak for myself sis (but yeah we’ll totally be there)_

 **Heda Leksa:** _the illiteracy...it pains me_

 **O:** _totes gonna b thr, cnt wayt_

 **Heda Leksa:** _i’m gonna punch you_

 **Reivon:** _princess and i are coming but she’s not sneaky enough to text back_

 **Wanheda:** _bish u thought_

 **Kostia:** _i get to sit on the floor in the front seat this time_

Clarke snickers as she reads through the texts. It had been decided in the middle of the day that it was going to happen. The recently created group chat went wild during Clarke’s fourth period, causing her, Raven’s, and Octavia’s phones to vibrate loudly in the middle of Pike’s lecture. The rest of said lecture had been spent giggling at the group chat between disapproving glares from Pike.

Fast forward a few hours, and the final bell has just rung. Clarke is the last person to arrive to the band lobby, where the rest of her friends are already waiting for her. Bellamy’s teasing in the group chat was half true; the sick ones in the group truly are quite pathetic. Bellamy has taken Octavia and Lincoln’s bags so that Lincoln can give his girlfriend a piggyback ride.

“Too hard to walk from here to the Jeep?” Clarke teases. Octavia looks up from where she has buried her face in Lincoln’s neck, a tiny smile on her slightly pale face. Her eyes are darker than usual, and her nose is a light shade of pink. The poor girl looks about as miserable as Clarke feels.

“I’m going to sleep for six years,” Costia announces as they head towards the doors. A rush of air hits them as Lexa pushes the doors open. It’s getting slightly cooler, and the chill is a relief to slightly feverish skin.

Clarke groans as the shade from the overhang disappears and the three o’clock sun shines brightly into their eyes. The congestion in her sinuses has given her a headache that makes her certain her head will explode, and the bright light does nothing to soothe her pain.

“I vote we get homework done and out of the way and then follow Costia’s plan,” Anya suggests as they climb into the Jeep. Costia gets her wish; she sits in the front seat at Raven’s feet, and is nearly kicked in the face as the younger brunette turns around in the seat to look to Anya.

“I second that notion,” she says, turning back around to face a disgruntled Costia. She mutters an apology and Costia rolls her eyes.

This time around, Clarke is sitting in Lexa’s lap rather than vice versa. The slight awkwardness from the first time is nowhere to be seen as the blonde buries her face in Lexa’s neck. The brunette wraps her arms around Clarke and plants a gentle kiss to the side of her head. Clarke’s eyes fall shut and she hopes that the throbbing will stop by the time they reach Bellamy’s.

“You two are disgusting,” Anya says, and Clarke can hear the grin in her voice.

A somewhat sharp turn right lets Clarke know that they’re out of the parking lot and on their way to Bellamy’s. The last thing she hears before sleep takes her in is Lexa giggling at her sister’s teasing.

\---

Lexa manages to stay awake for the majority of the ride to Bellamy and Octavia’s, but the comfortable silence that falls over the sick and exhausted passengers mixed with the gentle rumble of the wheels of the Jeep on the pavement lulls her into a short nap not two minutes before they arrive home.

She wakes to Clarke stirring in her lap as Bellamy pulls to a stop.

“We’re home,” he says quietly, looking around the seat and smiling. He eyes the blonde in Lexa’s lap and his grin widens. His gaze wanders over to the couple sitting behind him.

Octavia is still asleep in Lincoln’s arms, and Lexa doesn’t think that he has the heart to wake her. Anya has the tiniest of smiles on her face as she looks on at the couple.

Lexa cranes her neck to peer at Raven and Costia in the front seat, but she can’t quite reach. Bellamy catches her eye and notices what she’s attempting to do.

“Both asleep. I don’t think anyone’s going to be getting much homework done tonight,” he admits. His voice is soft and caring, and Lexa sees why Octavia has always praised him as being the best brother in the world.

With heavy eyelids, Lexa looks down at the blonde in her lap, who has stilled once again. Her eyebrows are furrowed as though she’s in pain, and Lexa assumes her headache has not yet gone away. The brunette’s thumb runs across Clarke’s arm that is tucked tightly around her. Adoration fills her heart, and she wonders how the girl can be so beautiful when she’s fallen ill.

“I’ll go get the door open,” Bellamy says, drawing Lexa from her trance. She looks up at him and nods, a small smile on her lips.

He opens the door and shuts it quietly, careful not to disturb the sleeping girls in the car. Lexa herself still fights to keep her eyes open, and she thinks that she’s never been more grateful to go to sleep before in her life.

Anya sighs and leans back into the seat, letting her eyes fall shut. Her arms cross in front of her chest, and Lexa wonders when the last time was that she saw her sister so content.

“Cos and I worked you guys pretty hard last night,” she admits, not opening her eyes, the corner of her mouth pulling upward in a half smile.

“You worked yourselves hard, too. We deserve the rest,” replies a familiar voice from the seats in front of them. Raven’s voice is raspy and congested, and as she gingerly turns around, dark circles under her eyes show just how tired she is.

Her tired eyes dart back and forth between Lexa and Lincoln for a moment, then to the sleeping girls in their laps. She smiles and rolls her eyes ever so slightly.

“Gross,” she teases quietly.

Before anyone can respond, Bellamy comes back to the Jeep, keys in hand. He opens the driver side door slowly and as gently as possible, still trying hard not to wake anyone.

“I grabbed some blankets from upstairs really quick, the living room is all set up now. Let’s get inside,” he says, and Lexa nods.

Raven carefully steps out of the Jeep, wary of Costia’s sleeping, curled up form on the floor. The movement still wakes Costia, and the curly haired brunette wakes with a wide yawn.

“Morning sunshine,” Raven teases, and a breath of air escapes through Costia’s nose in a half-hearted laugh.

Bellamy opens the door on Lincoln’s side, and Lincoln carefully wraps Octavia’s legs around his torso so that he can carry her inside. Anya crawls out through the open door behind them.

Raven comes to Lexa’s aid and opens the door nearest Lexa, and still Clarke does not wake.

Lexa slips her arm under the exhausted blonde’s legs and cautiously wraps Clarke’s arms around her neck. She then slips her free arm under Clarke’s shoulders, so that she is carrying her bridal style. Her years of experience marching tenors makes it simple for her to stand with Clarke’s weight pulling her forward, and Raven closes the door behind them.

Clarke nuzzles into Lexa’s neck in her sleep, and Lexa’s almost positive she’s going to melt.

Raven walks ahead into the house, and Costia stays behind with Lexa and Clarke. She smiles fondly at the pair as they walk slowly inside.

“She’s good for you,” Costia says sincerely, her voice taking on that soft tone that is not often heard. Lexa smiles contentedly, and there’s a lightness in her heart as they step through the door.

“I hope to be good for her, too,” she admits, and Costia rests her hand on Lexa’s shoulder after shutting the door behind them.

“You are, Lex. I promise.”

Lexa nods, and nothing more needs to be said.

She carefully kicks off her shoes, and Costia helps to take Clarke’s off. The blonde stirs at the slightly rougher movement, and she wakes, but just barely.

“Lex…?”

“We’re at Bellamy’s. Let’s rest, okay?” Lexa says, stepping onto the soft carpet. Clarke does not protest, and her eyes fall shut once again.

In the living room, Lincoln and Octavia are already covered with the same blanket they’d used during the movie night, and Octavia is still asleep against his chest. Anya and Costia are settling into the same position on the couch that Jasper and Monty had, and considering that they’re both somewhat smaller than the boys, there’s a bit more room for them to lie comfortably. They each have a blanket that is pulled up over their shoulders. Raven has stretched out in the spot where she and Bellamy had been, and Bellamy is gently laying a blanket over her.

The spot where Lexa and Clarke had been is the only empty spot on the couch, and Lexa gingerly settles into it. She repositions Clarke so that the blonde’s legs are lying across hers and she is curled up into Lexa’s side.

Bellamy walks over to them and pulls a blanket over them, which Lexa pulls over Clarke’s shoulders.

“Mochof,” Lexa says, and she pauses. The language feels as natural on her tongue as English does, and she can’t help but smile at the realization that she and her friends have a secret language that they’re truly fluent in. It brings a sort of childish giddiness along with the familiar recurring surge of appreciation for the people that have taken her in.

“We’ll worry about homework later,” Bellamy says, reaching behind him for the acoustic guitar leaning against the black bookshelf to the left of the room. He sits in the corner between the shelf and the wall and strums a few quiet chords.

Lexa’s eyes fall shut, the exhaustion from the sickness kicking in once more. She is lulled to sleep by the sound of the guitar and Bellamy’s quiet humming.

\---

Clarke wakes a couple of hours later. Her eyes flutter open, unadjusted to the light. She squints for a moment as she continues to return to reality, and slowly, she opens her eyes fully.

She takes in the scene around her silently as the sleepiness wears off. Lexa is still asleep next to her, her mouth hanging slightly open so that she can breathe. A tiny trail of drool drips from the corner of her lips, and Clarke bites her lip so that she doesn’t laugh out loud at the sight. Instead, she turns her attention to the rest of the room.

Bellamy, Anya, Costia, and Lincoln are awake as well. The TV is on, the volume kept low so as not to disturb anyone. Anya and Costia have sat up so that Bellamy has a place on the couch as they watch what Clarke is fairly certain to be The Breakfast Club. She’s only seen the movie once, but the scene jogs her memory. On the monitor above the television, the time reads 5:06. They still have nearly four hours before they have to leave.

“Morning, Princess,” Costia says, noticing that Clarke has woken. Clarke smiles and clears her throat, and Anya turns around.

“Morning,” she says, but her voice is garbled and wet from the sickness still stuck in it. She sighs, reminded once again of how much she hates being sick.

Suddenly, Anya snickers. She stands up from her spot on the couch, catching Bellamy’s attention as well. She walks over to where Clarke and Lexa are sitting, the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders as a devilish grin spreads across her face.

She pulls out her phone and points it toward Lexa, and then it clicks that she is taking a picture of the way her sister is drooling, likely for blackmail in the future.

“This is going on Instagram, this is too good. Smile, Griffin,” Anya teases, and Clarke swears she sticks her tongue out ever so slightly at the two of them.

Clarke smiles sheepishly and points toward Lexa, and after a beat, Anya pulls the phone away. She heads back to her seat on the couch and types, presumably into the caption box.

“She’s going to kill you,” Clarke warns, knowing the dynamic between the two off them. Anya scoffs and rolls her eyes.

Those awake watch the movie for a while longer until the clock strikes 5:45. Hunger is beginning to set in.

“I don’t care what we eat, so long as it is soft. Swallowing feels like eating nails,” Costia groans dramatically, and Clarke snorts. She sympathizes with the girl, however; her own throat feels like hell, and it is especially dry since she too slept with her mouth slightly open to breathe.

“Any objections to chicken noodle soup?” Bellamy calls from the kitchen, where he is presumably searching through the cabinets.

“How traditional,” Anya calls back. Lexa stirs next to Clarke at the sound.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Bellamy says, and the sound of a cabinet door closing rings through the house.

Lexa breathes in sharply and holds it as she stretches, and Clarke moves back slightly to allow her to do so. The brunette’s eyes fall shut as a huge yawn escapes her lips. Finally, as the yawn dies down and she finishes stretching, she lets out her breath.

“How long have you been up?” she husks, her voice deep from sleep. Clarke’s heart flutters for a moment before she responds.

“Forty minutes, maybe. We’ve been watching Breakfast Club,” she replies. Raven and Octavia are slowly beginning to wake up, now, as well.

“Bell?” Lexa asks quietly, wiping at her cheek. She notices the drool and her cheeks flush pink with embarrassment. Clarke bites the inside of her cheek to keep her smile from growing too wide.

“Making dinner. Chicken noodle soup, as cliche as it is,” she informs the blushing girl.

Lexa nods, and her eyes flutter shut for a moment again.

“After dinner, should we study for that history test we have tomorrow?” she asks, her eyes reopening as she remembers the exam.

Clarke groans and buries her face in Lexa’s outstretched neck, eliciting a chuckle from the still groggy girl.

“Yes, I guess we should,” Clarke agrees, and Lexa sighs in response.

Dinner goes quickly and quietly, as the majority of everyone’s attention is focused on the finishing movie on the TV. As 6:50 or so rolls around, the credits roll, and bowls are collected to be rinsed off and placed in the dishwasher. Despite everyone’s protest, Octavia and Bellamy insist on doing it themselves.

“I guess we should actually do homework,” Raven suggests, her words slightly difficult to understand through the congestion. She sniffles, trying to breathe through her nose and failing.

“Well, we could study for that history test for starters,” Octavia says, voicing Clarke and Lexa’s decision from earlier.

She looks to Lincoln, Bellamy, and Anya.

“What do you guys have to do?” she asks, shifting in Lincoln’s lap. He looks upward as though trying to remember.

“I have to write out an update on the language for Etymology, but that’s it,” Bellamy announces. Clarke notices that at some point while they were napping, he brought in everyone's bookbags from the trunk. He gets into his now and pulls out a notebook and pen.

“I think I’ve got a worksheet for Psychology,” Anya says, and she looks to Lincoln for his response.

“I’ve got nothing. Sucks for you guys,” he says, the hint of a smile on his face. He earns many scowls and eye rolls in response.

“Good. Then you can help all of us young ones study for the stupid test,” Octavia says, eliciting a sigh from Lincoln. His eyes flutter shut for a moment but quickly reopen as he meets eyes with his girlfriend.

“What's the subject?” he asks as Octavia hops off his lap to reach for her bag. She digs through the disorganized mess of papers and notebooks until she comes to one of her liking. She pulls it out, nearly ripping it in the process.

“The Civil War,” she reads from the headline. Bellamy looks up from his notebook and smiles, something lighting up in his eyes at the words.

“Coolest part of history there is,” he says, pointing his pen in a matter of fact way. His eyebrow arches in emphasis.

“But conspiracy theories though,” Lexa counters, running a hand through her tangled mane of curly hair. “Magic Bullet Theory, anyone?”

Clarke scoffs and looks to her girlfriend with a skeptical expression.

“The trajectory makes sense. Kennedy and that guy in front of him weren't directly in front of each other, which means it's entirely plausible for the bullet to have taken the path that it did,” she explains, hoping she has her facts correct. She remembers very little from the second half of US History, which for some reason was taught before the first half, but she hopes she has this right.

“Let me live, Clarke,” Lexa teases, but there's a glint in her eyes, of awe almost, and it makes Clarke’s chest rush with affection toward the green eyed girl.

“My only question to you is who was blue and who was grey,” Bellamy says, drawing their attention back to the task at hand.

“Union was blue, Confederates were grey,” Octavia answers immediately, and Bellamy dons the proud brother expression as a satisfied grin crosses his face.

“I've raised you well. Now get to work, you're distracting me,” he says, turning his tone stern. Octavia rolls her eyes as her brother returns to work on his update, then turns back to Lincoln and the rest of the juniors.

She pushes the review paper into his face and tells him to ask them questions. He chuckles at her actions and pushes the paper down so that he can actually see it.

“Alright, alright. So impatient,” he teases, straightening out the papers. He holds them out in front of him and narrows his eyes as though concentrating.

While Lincoln scans the paper for questions to ask, Clarke stretches out her aching limbs. She’d been curled in the same position, more or less, for several hours now.

“I’m laying down on the floor. Care to join me?” She asks, looking to Lexa. Lexa nods, and they disentangle themselves from each other. They stand shakily, bodies still tired from fighting infection, and Lexa pushes the foot rest of the recliner back into place.

Clarke lies down on her stomach, using her arms as a resting place for her head. Lexa steps over her and lies perpendicular to her, then places her head in the small of Clarke’s back.

“Alright, here we go,” Lincoln says. Octavia has shifted so that she is no longer sitting in his lap, but her legs are still draped over him. Her wild brunette hair falls in front of her face, and she makes no effort to move it.

“Wilmot Provisio. What did it do?” Lincoln inquires, looking back and forth between the younger girls around him.

“It attempted to abolish slavery,” Raven replies, and the inflection of her tone at the end of her sentence indicates that she’s uncertain in her answer.

“The expansion of slavery, not slavery itself,” Costia corrects her. Understanding washes over Raven’s face at the clarification.

“Good,” Lincoln says. He runs his finger down the page, searching for the more difficult questions.

“I have no division,” he quotes simply, and Clarke remembers this. They had watched portions of the movie Gettysburg in class the day before, and she recognizes the quote immediately.

“General Pickett,” Lexa informs, and Lincoln nods.

“After what?” Bellamy calls from his place across the room. Clarke looks up and sees that he is wearing reading glasses, and she smiles at the sight. It makes him appear much older and more sophisticated. She is certain that he will be a professor one day.

“He led the charge against the center of Union lines at Gettysburg over a mile of open land,” Costia interjects. “He was obliterated.”

“Well, that’s one way to put it,” Lexa says, smiling. She laughs a bit, and it turns into a wet cough that makes Clarke wince. She’s sure that her girlfriend’s throat stings like hell, and the way she flinches solidifies the blonde’s assumptions.

“If we ever get sick like this again, just shoot me,” Raven groans, falling back into her seat. She pulls the blanket up to her shoulders once again, and her watery and bloodshot eyes look rather pitiful.

“Deal,” Clarke agrees. Her headache has weakened, but it is not gone, even after their nap.

The rest of the evening is spent in a strange mixture of contentedness and misery. Homework is finished, and Aurora Blake returns home from work around 7:30. She smiles fondly at the faces in her living room, both familiar and not so much.

By the time parents begin to arrive around 9, everyone is mostly back to sleep. The only two left awake are Clarke and Bellamy. When a soft knock on the door sounds, he immediately goes to get it so that no one else has to move. Clarke smiles gratefully at him as she runs her thumb across her sleeping girlfriend’s forearm.

A short minute later, Abby steps into the room and kneels down next to Clarke and Lexa. She and her daughter meet eyes for a moment, and Abby smiles.

“Is she good to you?” She asks simply, no hint of disapproval or malice in her voice to be found. Clarke nods, her heart rushing with adoration for the girl in her arms. She peers up at her, and that same trail of drool is forming in the corner of her mouth. She bites back a snicker and looks back to her mom.

“Perfect,” she says, her voice quiet. Abby’s smile grows and she stands, signifying that it is time to go home.

Clarke leans up and places a kiss to Lexa’s cheek, stirring the girl awake. Her eyes flutter open slowly, and she winces against the sudden source of light from the TV in front of them.

“Mom’s here. I bet Gustus will be here soon, too,” Clarke says, resting her forehead against Lexa’s cheek. She relishes in the softness of her girlfriend’s skin and breathes deep, the scent that is entirely and uniquely Lexa filling her nose.

“Goodnight, Clarke,” the emerald eyed girl rasps quietly. She turns her head slightly and places a kiss to the blonde’s still feverish forehead.

“Reshop, Heda.”

As Clarke stands to leave, their hands linger momentarily, fingertips brushing gently against each other’s as Clarke walks to the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoped you enjoyed! Also...thank you so much to those who have left comments and kudos! It is much appreciated and always makes my day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty long...fair warning!

“Lexa Woods, if you don’t sit still, I’m going to smear this all over your face and you’re just going to have to deal.”

Lexa rolls her eyes and wills her limbs to still. Blissful energy courses through her veins, making the task of staying still for Anya nearly impossible. She feels giddy and childish like a toddler would on Christmas morning.

Senior night is always the best football game of the season, for one reason and one reason only; the band gets to take off their shakos, do their hair however they’d like, and put on the classic Commander war paint that takes the place of the classic stripes beneath the eyes. The Commanders and the Warriors are the only schools that wear “war paint” at school functions, and the white vs black makes it easy to distinguish between the two of them.

Anya dips the paintbrush in her hand into slightly watered down black face paint. She’s already done the darkest parts around Lexa’s eyes and is now moving on to the dripping effect down her cheeks.

Lexa keeps her face stoic enough for Anya to finish, then smiles as she announces that she’s done. This look, the war paint dripping down the face, is a look that they’ve managed to perfect in the last few years and they’re certain it’s the coolest rendition of the Commander war paint in the school.

Lexa stands and stretches her arms. Though the look is cool, it takes quite some time, leaving her muscles stiff and achy.

To her left, she sees the rest of Skaikru either applying the paint or having the paint applied to them. Costia, Bellamy, and Raven have already had theirs done and are now applying paint to Lincoln, Octavia, and Clarke. Jasper and Monty are nowhere to be seen. Lexa assumes that they’re finishing the project they’d been working on for months now.

Clarke is the next person to have her paint finished, and she smiles up at Lexa, blue eyes accentuated by the darkness surrounding them, smile seemingly brighter in contrast to the dark paint.

“You look terrifying, Lex,” she says, and Lexa raises an eyebrow at the blonde.

“I could say the same for you,” she says, and she isn’t lying. The paint, along with the hairstyle Clarke has chosen, leaves Lexa feeling slightly intimidated. Her girlfriend’s blonde hair is pulled back at the top, and the length of it has been braided so thinly that it reminds Lexa of dreadlocks. 

She has to admit, however, that she does look pretty frightening herself. Her own hair is styled in intricate braids that took an  hour to complete, and she’s fairly certain that her own reflection would intimidate her, too, if such were possible.

Hair and face paint finishes roughly ten minutes later, leaving about half an hour before the band has dinner together.

“Hey, Anya...do you think the prop room is unlocked?” Clarke asks teasingly, and Anya sighs. As a drum major, she isn’t truly supposed to allow anyone into that room, but Lexa can see in her eyes before she speaks that she’s already caved.

“It’s senior night, what the hell,” she says, a half smile on her cheeks. Clarke smiles in response and follows the older dirty blonde toward the prop room, Lexa close on her heels. She’s certain that the rest of their friends are close behind.

The prop room is an old, dusty, dark room at the end of the band hallway, locked for weeks on end until something is needed from it. It’s been locked for a solid five weeks, now, and is certainly going to be covered in dust and cobwebs when they open the door.

Anya pulls her keys from their spot on her belt loops and searches through them, trying each one until she finds the one that fits.

“Drum major for three years and you haven’t memorized the keys? Shameful,” Costia teases, and Anya rolls her eyes in response. She turns the key and then pulls on the door handle, and the door gives way.

“Dude,” Bellamy says quietly, and Lexa turns. His eyes are wide with wonder, and she wonders if he’s ever actually been in the room before.

They step inside, and immediately, people grab props and twirl them around, mesmerized. Lexa’s eyes are drawn to the array of fake swords leaning against the wall. Her eyes scan their intricate hilts and she admires the perfect sharpness of the obviously fake blades.

Clarke must have followed her eyes, because she’s soon at her girlfriend’s side. Lexa tears her attention from the arsenal of imitation weapons and her eyes meet Clarke’s.

“Kom war,” she says quietly, and Clarke smiles wickedly. Her eyes glint with her competitive spirit as the two of them bound toward the wall.

It doesn’t take long to notice the pile of armor sitting in the corner, and Lexa can vaguely remember the show that these props were used for. She’d been dragged to football games as a child first beginning to play music by Anya. The first show she ever watched was a Roman empire show, and she recognizes the armor immediately.

Without hesitation, the two of them grab for various chest pieces and shoulder protectors. Lexa finds one that grabs her attention. At the bottom of the pile, there is a shoulder piece that appears to have been fabricated from an old tire. It’s been painted silvery black, and the red piece of cloth that hangs from it appears to have been one of the old drum major sashes. It is no different from the ones they use today, but this one has been dirtied and ripped to fit the show. Lexa assumes that this is what the major wore for the show.

She slips it over her shoulder instantly and clips it. The red fabric falls behind her regally, long enough that it resembles a cape. It trails behind her as she walks to the swords and attatches two of the holders to her body. Two clicks later, she’s suited up, and she realizes that she must actually look like she came directly from the show. The long-sleeved black shirt, dark jeans, and black knee high boots she’d warn to school that day only add to her appearance.

“Holy…”

Octavia looks up at Lexa, her mouth slightly agape. Lexa takes a moment to appreciate how intimidating she looks, as well; her hair is done in a way that mixes the intricate braids on her own head and the pulled back look of Clarke’s hair, and the war paint on Octavia’s face brings out the sharpness of her jawline.

“Babe...you look incredible,” Clarke says, and Lexa’s heart flutters at the sudden pet name. Clarke goes red as she realizes what she’s said, and Lexa swears she sees Bellamy and Raven bite the inside of their cheeks to keep from smiling.

“I bow to you, Heda,” Costia teases, falling to one knee and bowing her head. Lexa can’t help but roll her eyes at the girl’s dramatic antics. 

“Oh shut up,” she says, and Costia stands, giggling.

Lexa grabs at the swords locked around her waist and twirls them out, somewhat astonished at her skill with them. She’s never handled a sword in her life, but she figures that years of stick tricks have given her an agile and finessed wrist.

There’s a shuffling sound to their left, and Anya walks out from behind piles and piles of various props. She’s found a broken astronaut’s helmet, along with a makeshift suit to attach it to, and Lexa wonders why they haven’t used it in their show yet, despite it being cracked. She also wonders where the hell all of this stuff comes from, but decides not to question it and instead appreciates it.

“I see your Commander Lexa and raise you Spacewalker,” Anya says, her voice muffled by the helmet. Though the helmet is slightly tinted, Lexa can see her sister smiling, and she appreciates the sight. She hasn’t been this happy for years, and nor has the older blonde grinning back at her.

“Where does all of this stuff even come from?” Octavia asks, strapping on what looks like a guard uniform vest of some sort and a Nerf gun that’s been painted black. She aims it at Lincoln teasingly, and he raises his hands in mock surrender. 

“Kane’s got money,” Bellamy says, looking at the piles of props in disbelief. He looks down at the bulky black watch on his wrist and sighs. “Playtime’s over, dinner stars in ten.”

Octavia groans like a disappointed child and juts her bottom lip out. “This is fun, though.”

“We’re totally coming back,” Raven says, twirling a painted toy pistol around her finger through the trigger hole. Lexa smiles as she realizes that they’re essentially playing dress up.

She reluctantly takes off the armor and swords and sets them into a small pile in the corner of the room, and Clarke covers it with the armor she was wearing.

“Now...who’s ready to kick Azgeda’s ass tonight?” the blonde says, standing up straight. She crosses her arms over her chest and raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at her lips.

“Kom war!”

\---

Dinner, an eloquent meal of Pizza Hut pizza and various sodas brought in by different sections of the band, passes quickly. Clarke eats three slices of cheese pizza and drinks two cans of A&W rootbeer, a decision she realizes she may regret later on that night. At the moment, however, she doesn’t care. She hasn’t allowed herself to indulge in such unhealthy foods for quite a long time, and it’s senior night, dammit.

Apparently, Lexa feels the same way. She eats just as much as Clarke does, and she finishes two cans of Pepsi plus the rest of Anya’s Coke like it’s nothing. 

“If you puke on field on senior night, I’ll kill you both,” Costia says, wiping her mouth on her sleeve after downing only her second piece of pizza. She places her napkin on her plate, signifying that she’s finished, and Clarke scoffs. 

“Two pieces? Kwelen,” she says, smirking at the wild haired brunette opposite her. Costia throws her empty pop can at the blonde’s face as she stands to throw away the rest of her trash.

Per the usual, the banter between them and the rest of Skaikru does not die down the rest of the night. If anything, it gets more intense, and Clarke doesn’t mind in the slightest. She’s always stood by the belief that a good friend will get offended if you insult them, but a best friend will come back at you harder. That’s the theory she grew up on with Octavia, Bellamy, and Raven, and it’s proven itself true year after year.

Twenty stumbling minutes after dinner ends, the band is in arcs around Kane’s podium waiting to warm up. Every football game, the routine is the same, whether it’s a special game or not. They play their school song, they play the National Anthem, and then Kane hands them the opposing team’s song and bids them good luck. Somehow, with the fifteen minutes they have, they always pull it together and the opposing team’s song sounds passable.

The Arkadia school song sounds good, as usual, as does the National Anthem. Clarke has always loved the version that they play. It’s a much slower rendition that builds suddenly and forcefully into the final strain. As the trumpets blare on a high C at the end, Clarke feels a grin creeping onto her cheeks as she hears Jasper and Monty playing above the others. They’re two of the best trumpets, no doubt, and even as they overplay, their tone is remarkable.

There’s a slight grumble as Azgeda’s song is passed out, and Kane raises an eyebrow at his band. Clarke sighs, knowing the speech they’re about to get.

“Sportsmanship, children. Take the high road,” Kane says simply, and quiet murmurs of ‘yes Kane’ and Bellamy’s trademark ‘yes sir’ sound through the band.

Just as expected, though they’re given only fifteen minutes to learn or relearn the song, it ends up sounding perfectly fine for the event. It isn’t perfect, but school songs at football games never are. As soon as it is done, chatter begins to build as they wait to be dismissed to the bleachers outside. Anya raises one hand, and the band immediately silences. 

Kane has already headed outside, likely to check to be sure that props have been moved as they should be. From her spot next to Anya, Costia peeks her head around the corner to ensure that he is nowhere in sight, then turns around with a small smile.

“Let’s go kick some Azgeda ass, alright?” she says, a wicked smile on her face. A cheer erupts, and Clarke acknowledges to herself that it sounds like a war cry. The name ‘Commanders’ truly suits the band in that moment.

“Alright, alright. You’re dismissed, Commanders,” Anya says, trying hard not to smile. She shoots Costia a scolding glare, but all she gets in response is a shrug that pleads innocence. Anya rolls her eyes hard, and Costia lets out a snicker.

Clarke turns her attention away from the pair of best friends and searches the sea of people for Lexa. It takes a few moments, but she spots her leaving the drum room with Raven, tenors pulled up so that she can walk slightly easier. Something about her being in uniform with her hair down and braided makes Clarke’s heart flutter in her chest, and for once, she doesn’t brush it off. She walks over to her girlfriend smiling, not bothering to hide the blush in her cheeks.

Lexa takes one hand off of her tenors and holds it out to Clarke, and the blonde graciously accepts it. She tightens her grip on the baritone in her right hand, then situates her left in Lexa’s.

“Hey there, Alexandria,” she says, and Lexa’s scowl at the use of her full name does not go unnoticed. The two of them edge through the tight space of the doors, luckily not bumping their instruments in the process.

“Clarke Rylee Griffin, if you call me Alexandria again, I’m afraid this isn’t going to work,” Lexa teases, and Clarke rolls her eyes. She knows full well that she’s going to call her Alexandria a million times, and Lexa is going to secretly love each one.

The first quarter of the game passes much quicker than anyone realizes. Clarke spends most of it explaining football to Lexa and Costia, who are clueless as can be after all these years. She grew up watching games with her father. Jake had taught her well, she knows, because she can follow every moment of the game.

Ironically, the boys of Skaikru aren’t very loud or into the game. Sure, they cheer, but their involvement is nothing compared to their girls. Lincoln and Bellamy can’t seem to stop smiling as they listen to their Octavia screaming at Azgeda, as well as their own players.

“I’m sorry, but who the hell was that pass supposed to go to?” Raven asks aloud, looking to Octavia. The questioned brunette hangs her head in her hands, disappointed in the Commander’s players. Clarke smiles, remembering nights spent at the Blake house watching various sports until they passed out. 

As the second quarter rolls around, Kane dismisses the band to start the trek to the back lot around the corner from the field for warm up. There’s no physical warm up before halftime performances, but they always stand in arcs and play through whatever parts of the music need to be addressed before the show. Today, Kane’s focus is on the ballad.

\---

Lexa parts from Clarke as they reach the arcs and stands at the back of the band with her section. In the battery lineup, she and Raven are right next to each other, something she’s been grateful for this season. In the past years, she’s never stood by anyone she knew or enjoyed being next to, but Raven made that an entirely different story.

“Did Costia tell you yet, about the ballad solos?” She asks Lexa when they get to their places, and Lexa shakes her head, not knowing what Raven refers to. A proud smile crosses the shorter brunette’s face, and she pulls her sticks from her bag. She twirls one around in her fingers, much like Lexa does when she’s bored or nervous.

“You know that mellophone and baritone call and response at the beginning?” Raven asks, and Lexa nods, visualizing the beginning of the ballad. The baritones and mellophones are in two pods on opposite sides of the field in various positions as the rest of the band backs them up and marches behind them. 

“He’s turning them into solos tonight. Nathan and Clarke,” Raven says, and her smile grows. Lexa feels a surge of pride rush through her chest for her girlfriend at the announcement, and she smiles ear to ear as Kane calls them to attention.

He holds up two wireless microphones, the kind that attach to the bell of a horn and are controlled by the synthesizer cart. Lexa’s grin grows, if that’s even possible, as she watches the faces of everyone in the band as they realize what it likely means.

Wordlessly, Kane hands one microphone to Anya and one to Costia. They take them from his hands and walk into the arcs. No one moves an inch, but they watch intently to see where the microphones will be placed. 

Anya reaches Nathan Miller first, and as she attaches the microphone to the bell of his mellophone, Lexa’s never seen the boy smile as wide as he does then. She’s certain that his chest puffs out even more than it was before, and his back straightens.

Costia reaches Clarke second, and as she attaches the microphone to the bell of her baritone, the blonde’s eyes widen. Lexa can’t tell what she says, but her lips move slightly, and Costia smiles and nods. A content smirk rests on Clarke’s face afterward. Costia and Anya then head up to the front of the arcs again.

“We’re just going to play a few warmups and then go. I’m not going to tell you what these microphones are for. I want you to figure this out and make decisions for yourselves as advanced musicians tonight,” Kane says, raising his voice so that all can hear. 

Lexa is surprised at his blind trust in them, but no one even bats an eyelash at his announcement. Instead, they stay silently poised, waiting for Costia or Anya to raise their hands and bring them to playing position to warm up.

A few moments later, the pair does just that, and Lexa’s hands begin to fly furiously yet effortlessly across the drums beneath her.

\---

“Costia, wait!”

As they walk toward the field to perform, Monty and Jasper’s voices catch Lexa’s attention. She, Costia, Anya, and Clarke both spin around to find the two boys racing toward them.

“Sorry, no running in uniform, we know,” Monty says, panting from being out of breath. He places his hands on his knees, his trumpet hanging from around his tiny wrist.

Jasper fumbles around in the front pocket on the inside of his uniform, his arm bent awkwardly in his attempt to reach the pocket through the neck opening of his jacket. Resolution settles across his face, and he pulls out a block of what appears to be plastic.

He holds it out to Costia, the somewhat transparent object small against his large gloved hand. Lexa studies it carefully, noting the small black dot at the front of it and the infinity sign painted onto the top of it.

“What is this?” Costia asks, raising an eyebrow at the pair of engineers. Monty smiles and takes the thing from Jasper’s hands.

“We present to you...the Flame,” he says. “It’s a camera.”

He places it on Costia’s shoulder, and Lexa nearly jumps in surprise when tiny little black cords erupt from it and bury themselves in the fabric of Costia’s uniform. 

“How the hell…” Clarke begins, and Jasper smiles, then holds up a hand to cut her off.

“Question not how genius exists. Appreciate it instead,” he says, and Lexa can see his trumpet ego shining through.

“Anything recorded on that camera is immediately sent to my computer. It can record high quality video and audio, and no one will ever notice it’s there, not even at competitions,” Monty says, much more humbly than Jasper. Costia smiles, now, then gives the boys a look that Lexa can’t identify as they reach the edge of the field. Soon, they’ll all have to split off and find their place on the field to begin the show.

“You know, they make GoPros for this same exact reason,” Costia says, and Monty and Jasper both look as though someone murdered a puppy. Lexa snorts at their look of being offended, earning herself an elbow to the side from her girlfriend.

“This is high class technology, Keryon. The finest,” Jasper says, placing his hand over his heart dramatically. Costia smiles and nods in agreement. The Flame truly is an astonishing piece of work, and until one of them explains how it works, Lexa will forever question it and try to decipher it.

“How do I start and stop recording?” Costia asks, and that same cocky smile returns to Jasper’s face.

“Voice recognition technology,” he says, and Costia rolls her eyes in disbelief.

“Of course. How could I ever expect anything less?” She says, and this time, it’s Monty who smiles with pride. Lexa assumes that he designed it, or at the very least came up with the idea.

“To start recording, just say ‘nau.’ To stop it, say ‘odon,’” he explains. Costia smiles warmly at the use of the Skaikru’s language. Her expression softens as Kane calls to her and Anya to come to the front of the field.

“This is incredible, guys. Thank you,” she says. Jasper and Monty smile contentedly now as they nod to her. She and Anya wave goodbye as they jog to the front of the field, breaking their own rule about running in uniform.

Moments later, as soon as Anya has made it to the top of the podium, Kane gives the go ahead to take the field.

\---

Clarke takes her place in the pod of baritones at the front of the field. The second movement is about to begin, and she assumes that this is where the microphones come in.

Her fellow baritones around her, Monroe and Atom, settle into their positions. They meet eyes for a moment, and with a silent agreement, they stretch their horns out so that they become part of the pose, leaving Clarke as the only one playing. The mellophones have done the same for Nathan, and Clarke gulps at the realization that the two of them are now soloists.

She looks across the field to meet Nathan’s eyes momentarily, making sure not to move her head much. Though they’re far apart, she knows that Nathan is looking at her. The corner of his mouth turns up in a smile, and Clarke winks to him in acknowledgement. The two of them turn back to face Costia, who has now taken the podium in Anya’s place per the usual. The fact that Costia is conducting for this movement is fitting, seeing as it is her favorite piece in the entire show.

She raises her hands slowly and brings them down, and Clarke begins.

Her tone shakes slightly at first, nerves getting the better of her. However, a moment later it settles, and Nathan joins her. The two of them play beautifully together, she notes, and it’s all she can do not to smile into her horn. This is the first time she’s ever had a solo in a marching show, and she’s honored as she realizes that Kane chose her over the two older members in her section.

The rest of the show goes wonderfully, and the crowd is especially involved tonight. Senior night is always an exciting night in itself. The entire school comes together to celebrate those soon to leave them, making it a very emotional evening for everyone. This is especially true for the band, whose members are a hundred person strong family with quite possibly the most incredible and talented senior class yet. 

When the halftime show is over, the band returns to their bleachers at the end of the field, still buzzing with the energy of such a powerful and emotional show. A momentary squeal of feedback followed by the announcer’s voice quiets them immediately, however, and silence falls over the field.

“We’d like to take this time now to acknowledge and appreciate the seniors in our fall activities. Your work and dedication brings pride to Arkadia, and always will,” he says, eliciting a cheer from the students in the bleachers. Clarke smiles as she listens and watches war paint covered faces light up with excitement.

“After such an incredible performance, it’s only fair that we start with the seniors in the band. How’s that sound, Commanders?”

Clarke’s heart nearly leaps out of her chest with gratitude as the student section, cheerleaders, football players, popular kids and outcasts alike cheer loudly at the announcer’s suggestion. The past few months have brought in more appreciation and recognition for the band than the preceding three years combined, creating a sense of unity that the school has not previously known. Smiles grace the faces of every member of the band, and Clarke chuckles as she sees Murphy trying his hardest to hide the grin on his face.

As the announcer lists the seniors, starting with Lincoln and ending with Anya, once dry eyes become slightly teary. Senior night is the first realization that their oldest members are only with them for a while longer, and every year, it gets to Clarke just as much. This year, however, is different. Bellamy has been her best friend and older brother figure for as long as she can remember, and the idea of spending her last year of high school without him by her side makes her heart ache.

“I’m not ready to lose both my boys,” Octavia says, voice cracking. She mutters an obscenity and laughs, looking up slightly as though willing the tears in her eyes not to fall. Clarke squeezes Lexa’s hand for stability, not wanting to cry, either.

Bellamy and Lincoln both smile, and Bellamy’s eyes water slightly as he pulls his little sister into his arms. Lincoln places a kiss to her head, and Octavia smiles against her brother’s chest.

“We’re not going anywhere, O, I promise,” he says, his voice dripping with sincerity and a love that Clarke has only ever seen between the two of them.

“You better not, or I’ll kill you,” Octavia says, and Clarke chuckles at her best friend trying desperately to keep the mood light. She thanks her silently for doing so, because the more they talk about graduation, the more real it becomes, and she’s not ready for that yet.

Anya comes and sits next to Lexa, and for the first time Clarke’s ever seen, she pulls her younger sister into a hug. Lexa doesn’t grumble or shove her off like she usually would, but instead leans into Anya’s shoulder and wraps her arms around the older girl’s torso. 

“I can’t believe you’re a senior. You’re so old,” Lexa teases, her voice slightly unsteady. Anya chuckles and runs her thumb across her younger sister’s shoulder.

“Oh shut up, you’re going to be a senior next year,” she says. The smile on her face falters slightly, and her expression softens at the realization.

“Stop growing up, kid, okay?” She says, and her voice holds a tenderness that Clarke has not yet heard. Between the two of them and the Blake siblings, her heart feels ready to burst in adoration of the love that is shared between them all.

A shuffling behind her catches her attention, and she turns from the Woods siblings to find Bellamy standing there, a tiny smile on his face as he leans against the bleachers. Clarke grins at the older boy, and he holds his arms out to her.

She stands slowly and eases herself over the edge. Though the drop from the top of their bleachers to the ground is only a few feet, she’s no stranger to the pain that can be caused from falling the wrong way from them.

She barely has time to steady herself before Bellamy pulls her into a tight hug, and Clarke lets out a little laugh as he does so. She wraps her arms snugly around his torso and closes her eyes, not even bothering to hide the tear that trickles down her cheek.

“I’m proud of you, Princess. You’re going to be a great leader next year,” Bellamy says, and Clarke smiles despite the lump that rises in her throat again. She breathes in deeply, trying to steady her emotions. The tightness of the hug and the muffled sound of Bellamy’s voice brings memories back from their years together. She realizes that Bellamy has always been not only Octavia’s brother, but her’s and Raven’s too. He’s been their protector through countless hardships, and Clarke’s heart feels like it could break in two at the idea of him not being around.

“Alright, enough weepiness for the night. We’ve got a game to win,” Raven calls down from the bleachers above them. Clarke and Bellamy part, and as the third quarter buzzer sounds, renewed excitement about the game against Azgeda courses through her veins. Lexa reaches down and grabs Clarke’s forearm, and Clarke does the same to hers. Careful not to damage the uniform, she climbs back up to the top of the bleachers and takes her seat next to Lexa.

The second half of the game is much more energetic than the first. Once Lexa and Costia are certain in themselves and their knowledge of the game they’re watching, they join Clarke, Raven, and Octavia in screaming at the players on the field.

“OH COME ON!” Lexa cries, an expression of genuine disappointment and mild anger settling on her features as Azgeda makes a dirty move and kicks the back of a Commander’s knees, causing him to fall to the ground instantly. Clarke wonders for a moment why Azgeda as a school is so vicious, but she doesn’t have much time to give to that thought. The game is fast moving, and there’s already something new to take her attention.

For the entirety of the second half, neither team has a lead large enough to ensure that they will win the game. As the final few seconds approach, Clarke notes that Azgeda is in the lead and scowls.

“If we lose this game I’m going to punch somebody,” she groans as the athletes on the field set up for the final play. It isn’t impossible to win the game, but it’ll be hard. The Commanders have the ball in possession, but ten seconds isn’t much time to score.

Excited tension fills the air as they wait for the play to begin.

Immediately, one of the Commanders sprints downfield toward the endzone, and Clarke gasps. She’s seen this before, and she’s only ever seen it work in the NFL, never at a high school game. The Commander dodges Warrior after Warrior as they try to bring him down, and Clarke is in shock. He turns around to face the opposite direction as he reaches the twenty yard line, and the ball flies through the air from the other end of the field.

Half of the band has their breath held, and the other half is screaming. Clarke and Lexa are both screaming as they watch the ball soaring through the air.

“Come on, do it do it do it…” Clarke urges, willing the sprinting player to catch the ball.

He does, at the ten yard line, with several Warriors at his tail. The band and student section let out a war cry of happiness at the action, but the play is not over yet. Miraculously, he reaches the endzone, then throws the ball down into the white turf proudly just as the buzzer goes off, ending the game. Cheers of pride erupt all across the bleachers, and Clarke is smiling so wide her cheeks hurt.

In the midst of her cheering, she takes a moment to look around. People are hugging each other, jumping up and down, screaming at the top of their lungs, and smiling wider than Clarke’s ever seen. Everyone’s eyes are alight with a competitive and proud fire from the win, and as they storm the field with the student section, Clarke’s never felt so unified with these people in her life.

\---

The energy in the room is only just beginning to die down as they head inside to put away instruments and change out of uniforms. After both their instruments are securely put away, Lexa meets Clarke in the small band room where the girls are changing, and Clarke still has not wiped that goofy grin off of her face. Lexa won’t even pretend that she minds; she could look at that smile and those bright blue eyes til the sun came up and she wouldn’t look away for a second.

“You did good, baby,” she says, the name slipping past her lips before she can think about it. As she unzips the back of Clarke’s jacket, she notices the blonde’s ears turn red, and she smiles.

“So did you. You’re an excellent cheerer, by the way,” Clarke says, a tiny smirk on her now rosy cheeks. Lexa smiles contentedly back before turning around, silently asking for Clarke’s help to unzip the jacket.

The two of them strip their uniforms in a comfortable silence, then head to the uniform room to put them away.

When they return to the large band room, the rest of Skaikru is already changed and is standing in a group in the corner of the room. They join their friends, and smiles cross everyone’s faces at the completion of their group.

Wordlessly, as if by some telepathical agreement, they fall into a gigantic group hug, and Lexa ends up with her face buried in Octavia’s neck and her arm wrapped around Clarke tightly.

“Ai hod yo in, Skaikru,” Bellamy says quietly, just loud enough for all of them to hear it.

“Otaim,” they chorus in response.

Lexa’s eyes fall shut and a smaller, content smile plays at her lips as she takes in the warmth of the people around her. Before them, she didn’t know what it was like for people to feel like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! There's been a change of course for this fic, and there was originally an update that I posted on March 31st. I have decided to scrap this while I still can and go for something lighter, so hopefully a new chapter nine will be up by the end of the weekend!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, Azgeda never stops sucking, do they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this is at least a little lighter than what's been happening on the actual show lately! It'll get better next few chapters. Enjoy!

The following week absolutely flies by. Their fifth competition of the season, out of nine if they make it to state, goes fairly well. They do not compete against Azgeda for what is likely to be the only time the entire season. The Warrior band is on the other side of the state, competing in a show where they are obviously going to triumph. The other four bands they face are at the bottom third of the class, and Clarke sends her mental condolences to the groups for having to face a band situated all the way at the top.

With Azgeda out of the way, the only real competition at their show is the band from Mount Weather High. Clarke hadn’t realized how good they were until their competition a few weeks before at their school, and their exhibition performance absolutely blew her away. Still, despite the skill of their closest opponent, they prevail. (Later investigation the following morning reveals that Azgeda had a two point lead on them at their own competition, but Clarke writes it off to the difference in judging at different locations).

The lead, however small and possibly irrelevant, seems to get under everyone’s skin in just the right way. The rehearsals that week are intense, and sometimes frustrating, but incredibly productive. The show at the end of the week feels almost completely different from the show they begin the week with, and Clarke couldn’t be more proud of they work they’ve done.

Despite the early rising time, the blonde isn’t as crabby as she usually is on Saturday mornings. She wakes feeling slightly more refreshed than normal, and the sensation is one she won’t take for granted. Even Raven, the grumpiest person in the world and the worst person to wake up in the universe, starts the morning chipper as she bounds down the hall for breakfast.

Clarke sits up in bed and swings her legs over the edge, the place where Raven’s body lie just moments ago still warm with body heat. She runs her fingers through her mussed and matted hair. A grin plays at her lips as she imagines how horrid it must look, and she can’t help but grin at the even worse off brunette still asleep on the floor. 

“Come on, O, Raven’s making pancakes,” Clarke says, stretching her leg out almost painfully to jab Octavia with her big toe. The bundle of blankets beneath her chuckles slightly and turns, revealing a tired smile and bloodshot eyes.

“At 5:30 in the morning, Grumpy is making pancakes? And Abby is totally fine with that?”

A quiet knock at the door followed by a high pitched creak sounds beside them, and the woman aforementioned peeks into the room. She’s barely awake, herself, but she seems happy despite the fact.

“If pancakes will save us from you three groaning about how ‘goddamn early’ it is, I’m more than okay with it,” Abby says, and Clarke’s cheeks heat up. She’d always tried to put on her filter around her mother, but her tired mind apparently isn’t as observant and aware as she had previously thought. Abby grins at her daughter’s reaction and steps quietly from the room, her footsteps receding down the hallway.

Clarke’s phone vibrates on the desk next to her bed, and she grabs for it lazily as Octavia pulls herself up from the nest she’s made on the ground. 

**Heda Leksa:** _ morning beautiful. anya’s gonna grab snacks from the gas station for the bus ride. you want anything? _

Clarke grins at the message, too enamored for a moment to realize that Lexa had actually asked her a question. When she realizes her girlfriend is actually looking for an answer, she thinks for a moment before asking for some of those cookie dough candy bites.

“Rehearsal is at 7:30, right?” Octavia asks as she tries to tame her mane of hair. She winces as her brush combs through a particularly tight tangle, and Clarke nods.

“Good, then we don’t have to rush,” she says, finally giving up on her hair for the moment. “Pancakes, Griff?”

Clarke grins at the use of the rare nickname, one reserved only for Raven and Octavia. Before she has a chance to answer, her stomach growls, and Octavia is pulling her down the hall.

\--

The morning’s rehearsal moves quickly and intensely, keeping up the trend that had been set in the week leading up to the show. There are moments that it gets stressful, when Kane wants something so unbelievably perfect that Lexa wants to scream. However, she knows that it will be worth it in the end, and she wills herself to stay calm.

The performance is somewhere around three. No one ever really pays attention to performance times, because it’s much easier to just go with the flow and let things happen. With the general timeframe set, it’s likely that they will need to leave somewhere around eleven. The performance site is two hours away, and judging by the fact that it is nearing ten after ten, Lexa guesses that whatever lunch the parents made is going to have to be taken onto the bus.

Her suspicions are confirmed when she and Clarke return from loading their instruments. Duffel bags strung over their shoulders, they walk out into the main lobby. Abby, Kane, and a few other parents are handing out brown bag lunches.

“See you when I’m looking at you,” Abby says. She places a kiss to Clarke’s forehead, and Lexa smiles at their interaction. She’s surprised, however, when Abby places a kiss to the top of her head, too. 

“Be good, now,” she says, looking between her daughter and Lexa. Lexa nods, but her heart is too full to process anything else. Clarke squeezes her hand, an adoring smile on her cheeks as they make their way out the door.

Just as expected, the back five or six seats of the bus have already been claimed by the rest of the Skaikru. They’ve left the last two open for Lexa and Clarke respectively, knowing that messing with the order would result in thrown belongings and annoyed grumbling. (They would know. Raven thought it would be cute last weekend to try to switch things up, and Lexa was having none of it.)

Lexa slumps into her seat, still feeling surprisingly awake despite the early waking time. The mid-October air is even chillier than expected, and she shivers against the cold as hands grab frantically for her bag. Her trusty blanket is found shortly after, and she pulls it over her shoulders immediately.

When Lexa looks up, Clarke has settled into her own seat, cocooned in her father’s blanket so that the only thing peeking out is her face. Lexa can’t help but let out a snort at the sight, and she would never admit it, but Clarke looks absolutely adorable.

“Okay, we like NEVER talk on bus rides,” Octavia calls from her seat next to Lincoln about three seats ahead. “Scoot, Griff.”

Without hesitation, Clarke practically jumps into Lexa’s seat, and the brunette nearly lets out a squeak in surprise. The bundle of blanket that is her girlfriend nudges her way into her arms. Lexa could not be more grateful for the warmth.

Octavia and Lincoln occupy the space created by Clarke’s moving away, and the seats in front of them are taken as well. Bellamy slides into Raven’s seat, immediately wrapping his arms around her. Raven smiles and leans back, her blanket providing warmth for them both. 

Lexa leans down and pulls the blanket away from Clarke’s ear for just a moment.

“20 bucks they’re dating by the end of the season,” she whispers, and she can feel Clarke’s shoulders shake with laughter. She settles quickly, though, and nods.

“We’ll both be twenty bucks richer, then,” she agrees, and Lexa raises an eyebrow.

“Doesn’t that mean we’ll actually both be just as rich as we were before?”

“Shut up.”

Anya and Costia slip into the seat in front of them, propped on their knees so that they can see.

\--

“What are your plans for after high school?” Clarke asks. She lets her head fall backward so that it rests in the crook of her girlfriend’s neck, and Lexa instinctively leans her head forward.

Bellamy looks up and juts his jaw out as though deep in thought. Raven, however, speaks first.

“I’m obviously going to own a car shop for a while,” she says, and Clarke smiles. Raven is one of the best mechanics in town, easily more talented than any of the guys in Arkadia. She’d dreamed of opening her own shop since she was old enough to pick up a wrench.

“I think I might be a history teacher,” Bellamy says, and the corner of his mouth turns up in a half smile. “That or Linguistics, whichever is easier to find a job.”

“You literally could not be any more of a dork,” Raven quips, and Bellamy simply rolls his eyes.

“I’ll be the best vet there ever was,” Costia says. Clarke grins at the idea of the curly haired brunette cooing to a kitten or playing tug of war with a teething puppy. Lexa must like the idea as well, for Clarke can feel her smile against the blanket wrapped around her.

As the conversation carries on, they dive into their lunches of quite possibly the best peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that have ever been made.

“Personal trainer,” Anya says simply through a mouthful of food. Clarke thinks that fits her, for the idea of Anya doing anything less than something physically demanding every single day seems unrealistic.

“You’re all boring. I’m studying law enforcement. I’ll be the hottest cop in the world,” Octavia boasts, practically pushing her chest out with pride. Clarke can see past Octavia’s messy brunette hair just enough to see Lincoln smirk at her statement.

“Yes, you will,” he says quietly. “I don’t know what I want to do, but I want to help people.”

Octavia practically melts at his words, and she leans back into his arms with a content smile on her face. Her eyes turn from her boyfriend to Clarke and Lexa.

“You two?”

Clarke looks back at Lexa, and the brunette’s eyes are filled with intrigue as she silently urges the blonde to speak.

“I know it’s dumb, but I’d really like to be an artist for a living,” she admits quietly, her voice timid. Her friends have only seen her doodle, but only her mother and father have ever seen her real artwork. The extra bedroom upstairs that no one is ever allowed to go into is actually her studio, something now only her mother knows. Clarke’s heart pounds in her chest at the idea of eventually showing her friends her art.

“You ever going to let us into that secret studio of yours, then?” Bellamy asks softly, a teasing smile on his face. Clarke’s heart flutters in surprise for a moment.

“How did you know about that?”

“Every time you leave that room, you have colors all over your hands,” Raven says, matching Bellamy’s gentle but knowing smile. Clarke feels her face heat up, and Lexa’s hand running up and down her blanket-covered arm is all that calms her.

“Won sintaim,” the blonde assures, and that seems to be enough for them. To divert the attention away from herself, she turns in Lexa’s arms until she can look up at the brunette fully.

“What about you, baby?”

Lexa grins and turns all kinds of shades of red at the nickname, the same way she has every time. Clarke knows that the nickname always flusters her, which is precisely why she will never stop saying it. 

“I want Kane’s job,” Lexa says simply, and Clarke can’t help the way she breaks into a toothy grin. She lets her mind create the image of Lexa standing at the top of the practice tower, watching the band flow seamlessly below her. She is destined to lead, and leading as a musician seems to be just about perfect.

“I don’t think he’ll be so easy to give it up,” Lincoln replies, “but if he’d give it away to anyone, I’m sure it would be you.”

Lexa doesn’t reply. Instead, she nods gratefully, and Clarke pretends she doesn’t see the way Lexa’s eyes get misty.

The thought of everyone going on with their own lives makes Clarke feel all kinds of things. Part of her wants nothing more than to stay with these people forever, and be able to see them every day of her life. At the same time, she wants to see her friends go on and succeed. As the conversation goes elsewhere, Clarke hopes silently that they’ll always find time for each other. A life without these people is not a life she wants to live.

\--

Thick, tense silence falls over the stadium. Not a sound can be heard but for the crackle of static and the occasional squeal of feedback from the microphone in the press box. No matter how many times they sit in this situation, the anxiety of it all never dies down. As the wait for the second place announcement grows longer and longer, Lexa is certain she’s going to suffocate from the inability to breathe.

The show had gone incredibly. The only show that has ever topped the one they performed today is the one performed at senior night, and even this one was an incredibly close second. Everything that they poured their hearts and souls (and unimaginable amounts of energy) into had shown through in the performance. Kane was ecstatic, and therefore, so was the rest of the band. The only thing to even slightly throw their confidence was Azgeda’s performance, was equally as good (if not better) than their own.

Their moment of truth is here, now, and Lexa’s really beginning to wonder if the judges enjoy torturing kids for sport by making them wait so long for results.

“In second place…”

Clarke grips Lexa’s hand hard, making the brunette’s fingers ache slightly. She doesn’t dare ask Clarke to loosen up however. She does enjoy having a head.

“For the first time in history, we have a tie for first place!”

A huge resounding groan of displeasure ripples through the student section of the bleachers. No one has to ask who the tie is between. Lexa hangs her head in her hands in annoyance, more than ready to get up and go home right away.

“I’d take second over tying with them,” Octavia mutters from her spot next to Lexa. Her eyes are half lidded in annoyance, and her lips are pursed into a tight line as they announce the tie between Azgeda and Arkadia. 

Before the announcer can even finish his end of the night speech, the two bands are already making their way down the steps and toward the busses. Clarke drums her fingers absently on the back of Lexa’s palm, eyes forward and motionless.

To make matters worse, the Azgeda busses and trailers are parked directly next to Arkadia’s. This means that not only do they basically have to walk together, they also have to wait right next to each other while Nia and Kane wait to get the results papers from the critique room. If there’s anything worse than this, Lexa doesn’t know what it is.

They make it to the busses and are just about to get on before they run into an old friend.

“I would rather lose to you than be associated in a tie.”

Lexa and Clarke spin on their heels immediately to find Ontari Kwin standing behind them, leaning against Azgeda’s trailer. Her arms are crossed, and though she’s clearly annoyed, there’s a smirk playing at her lips that would suggest amusement.

“The feeling is mutual,” Clarke grumbles, just loudly enough for Ontari to hear. The smirk is wiped off her face immediately and is instead replaced by a nasty snarl. The spot where the three of them now stand is shadowed by the open door of the semi, and most of the kids in both bands have already boarded the busses to wait for departure. Lexa doesn’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

“You do not deserve to be placed in the same category as us,” Ontari growls, her tone low and defensive. “Your win a few weeks ago was even worse. An unfortunate fluke, at most.”

Clarke tenses, and her grip on Lexa’s hand tightens once again. Through the slight light provided by the moon, Lexa can see her girlfriend’s jaw clench and unclench repeatedly.

“Call it what you want, but your loss was simply reality catching up to you,” Clarke bites back. “Sucks not being the judges’ favorites anymore, doesn’t it?”

The next few seconds go by in a blur. Ontari lunges forward, fist raised and aimed directly at Clarke’s face. Lexa reacts instinctively and steps between the two, her fingers wrapping around Ontari’s forearm forcefully. She shoves the girl backward and slams her into the trailer. Even then, she does not let go.

Lexa ignores Clarke’s protests and leans close to Ontari’s face, eyes alight with anger as her grip tightens around the brunette’s forearm. Ontari hardly flinches. Lexa bares her teeth in a protective rage as words slip past her lips before she can stop them.

“Jomp em op en yu jomp ai op.”

In one sudden, unexpected move, Ontari brings her knee up into Lexa’s stomach, knocking the wind out of her. She stumbles backward and lets go of Ontari’s forearm as she gasps for air.

“What the hell is going on here?”

As Lexa’s vision turns black around the edges, the sound of the familiar voice makes her stomach turn. Abby storms toward them and grabs Lexa to keep her upright. Clarke takes Lexa’s hand tentatively, and the brunette accepts it graciously.

“This is the second time I’ve caught you fighting with one of my girls, Ontari. What is your mother going to say about this?” Abby fumes. The darkness in Lexa’s vision is overwhelming her, now, and the last thing she sees before she blacks out is Ontari smirking almost proudly in response.

\--

“Lexa Woods got in a fight with Ontari Kwin?” Kane asks incredulously.

They’ve made it back to the trailer, where the bit of free space has been turned into a temporary treatment center for Lexa. The brunette is still unconscious in Clarke’s arms as they settle against the blankets meant to cover the instruments. It’d only been a matter of minutes, so the fact that she hasn’t woken yet is not concerning. Despite this, Clarke can’t help her whispers of ‘wake up’ to her girlfriend. 

Lexa finally stirs, and Clarke immediately presses a discreet kiss to her temple while Abby and Kane were focused on their conversation. The brunette’s eyes flutter open, and she takes in a sharp breath. She winces in pain at the action.

“Lexa, you’re awake,” Kane says, crouching down in front of the two of them. Lexa nods and gently wedges her way out of Clarke’s arms so that the two of them sit crosslegged next to each other. Abby kneels down next to Kane, worried eyes scanning Lexa’s barely awake ones.

“Are you in any pain?” Abby asks, and Lexa nods.

“My stomach. She kneed me pretty hard.”

Kane’s worried eyes dart between Clarke and Lexa’s, and he lets out a tired sigh. His head droops slightly.

“What happened, Lexa? This isn’t like you,” he says, his voice soft yet stern. 

Lexa tenses immediately, and Clarke doesn’t miss it. She wants desperately to reach over and comfort her girlfriend, but she knows now is not the time. Lexa swallows hard and forces herself to meet Kane’s eyes.

“She lunged at Clarke. She was going to punch her,” she says. Her voice wavers, and Clarke’s fairly certain she begins to breathe just a little bit faster when she answers. This time, the blonde doesn’t stop the hand that reaches to rest on Lexa’s knee.

“For what?”

“They were...sparring a bit,” Lexa says. Clarke sighs, knowing that her girlfriend is doing her very best to shine a good light on her. She decides to own up to her actions and opens her mouth to speak.

“We both got mouthy with each other,” she admits, and Kane meets her eyes. She searches his face for any sign of disappointment, but she never finds it. 

“And after you said something, maybe something you shouldn’t have, she lunged at you and Lexa stepped in?” he questions. Clarke nods.

Abby sighs, her lips pursed into a thin line. While Kane’s disappointment is not to be read from his face, Abby seems slightly more visibly unhappy with their actions. Clarke’s heart thuds in her chest, and shame rises in her cheeks, making them red and warm. Her eyes fall, and this time, it is Lexa who places a hand on her knee.

“Did Ontari start it?”

“Yes. She said that she’d rather lose to us than be associated with us in a tie,” Lexa explains.

Kane and Abby merely nod in response, then stand as if on cue. They share a glance, and a thousand words are communicated in just that glance. Though telepathically decided, they nod to each other, then Kane turns back to Clarke and Lexa. Clarke’s heart flutters in nervous anticipation at the sight.

“Take the high road next time, okay? A Commander is compassionate, strong, and wise. Don’t forget that,” he says. If Clarke didn’t feel so guilty, she would have smiled at the reminder of the principles Kane has raised them on. Now, however, they feel like slaps to the face as she realizes how she has failed to follow them.

“Go load the bus, okay?” Abby says. Clarke and Lexa simply nod and trudge off the trailer, heads hung with shame with their tails between their legs.

The person they meet outside is not who they expect to see. Clarke goes rigid, anger threatening to bubble up in her chest as she stares up at the person. Lexa immediately grabs her forearm, much more gently than she had Ontari’s, and looks up to face the person as well.

“I’m sorry for my sister,” Roan says. His long, braided hair falls messily over his face, and his tired eyes convey true sincerity. Clarke relaxes just slightly, but her gaze does not soften.

“Why does she go out of her way to attack us? And why are you being kind?” Lexa inquires. Her voice is cool but somehow respectful, and Clarke admires her ability to be courteous despite her anger.

“Azgeda has been viciously competitive for years in everything they do. With the amount of trouble we get ourselves in because of that, it’s surprising that we don’t face more consequences,” Roan says honestly. It doesn’t do much to calm Clarke’s anger, and he must sense that, for he raises his hands slightly.

“Our mother grew up in the band under the direction of the most competitive and hardcore directors we’ve ever had,” he explains. “A literal drill sergeant in the military. Guess he couldn’t stay away from that position of power, yknow?”

Clarke is fairly certain she sees Lexa’s lips curve into the hint of a smile, and it takes all she has not to scoff incredulously. She wills herself to breathe deep and try to cultivate the same compassion that her girlfriend manages to, and she stays silent while Roan continues.

“She was determined to be just as good, if not better than him. As soon as we were old enough to pick up an instrument, she’s been encouraging us to be the best and nothing less. Apparently, that also means having no respect for anyone else but Azgeda.”

Now, Clarke’s angry resolve falters a bit as images run through her mind. She imagines Roan and Ontari, young and full of childish wonder, only to be imprinted with these ideals and morals. She imagines that they never had time to experience truly living as a child. Has Ontari ever even had a sleepover before?

“Why are you so kind, then? How did you break past that?” Clarke asks, her tone infinitely softer than the one she held before. Roan smiles softly now, and the gentle expression seems strange and foreign on his usually rigid features.

“I woke up. She’s still in a trance.”

His words move Clarke in an unexpected way, and she lets out a quiet sigh. He seems to notice the change in her demeanor, and that gentle smile returns to his face. His eyes are soft and caring as they move back and forth between Clarke and Lexa.

“Thank you for your kindness, Roan of Azgeda,” Lexa says, and it feels good when Clarke almost snorts at her girlfriend’s regal and overly respectful tone. She holds it in, however, and simply allows herself to smile at Lexa, then at Roan. 

Roan nods slowly, seemingly unfazed by Lexa’s tone. “Never hurts to be kind, Lexa kom Skaikru.”

Clarke stills, surprised by his response. He lets out a hearty chuckle at the deer in headlights look donning both of their faces, then leans in slightly closer to the two of them.

“You guys talk really, really loud in the bleachers. Just thought you should know,” he teases, and Clarke is positive she goes at least ten shades of red. 

Roan chuckles, quieter this time, at the sight. He starts to walk away, but he stops suddenly. He spins on his heel and turns his head.

“Reshop.”

“Goodnight, Roan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if this chapter wasn't up to par...life sometimes happens, yknow? Regardless, I hope you enjoy the story going forward.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting serious, Alexandira.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shamelessly Clexa chapter, with a little bit of other important information. Enjoy!

Time seems to have flown by since that competition. Before anyone can blink, the week is already nearly halfway over (exactly halfway over, if you’re considering noon the checkpoint.) Skaikru has situated themselves at their lunch table - which is slightly more crowded with the inclusion of Lexa, Costia, and Anya - and they’re only just beginning to dive into their food.

“Why can’t the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches even be good?” Octavia whines from her place next to Clarke. Lexa raises an eyebrow, amused at her friend’s tone, and takes a bite of the half-decent spaghetti on her plate. Clarke gives Octavia a look of annoyance, and the brunette scoffs through a mouthful of bread.

“What?”

“You love spaghetti. Why didn’t you just get that instead?” Clarke asks, taking a bite of her own spaghetti. Lexa marvels at how quickly her girlfriend downed the mini breadstick served with the pasta and bites back a grin. 

“How can you eat school spaghetti? It’s disgusting,” Anya groans as she swallows a bite of her own peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Clarke twirls the thin noodles covered in red sauce around her plastic fork dramatically, opens her mouth wide, and takes a bite pointedly. Anya rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her chocolate milk.

“Anyone have anything interesting to talk about?” Bellamy asks. He’s already digging into his bag, and Lexa has picked up on this routine countless times, now. He’s searching for his Etymology notebook to add to the language. He’s bound and determined to have the best, most fluent language in the class, and lunch has become a brainstorming session with other conversations intermingled.

“Other than how much I’d love to burn my Pre Calc book, not particularly,” Clarke replies through a grimace. She crinkles her nose in disgust at the thought of the class, and Lexa can’t help but smile to herself at how adorable it is when she does that. The brunette wills her cheeks not to redden, but to no avail.

“Going once?” Bellamy says, meeting the eyes of everyone at the table. He is met with shaking heads and hands raised in surrender to his wishes.

“Going twice?”

Nothing.

“Good. In that case…”

He flips open to the first empty page of the notebook. Though it is a three subject notebook, he is already in the last third of the paper. Lexa doesn’t pay attention to the rest of his statement, however, because Clarke has pulled her phone out of her pocket and gone still as she reads what it says.

Lexa nudges the blonde gently with her shoulder and licks her lips to rid them of sauce. She resists the urge to look down at the screen of Clarke’s phone in curiousity. 

Clarke jolts up, her eyes widening slightly as she snaps out of her transfixion on the screen. Her startle settles when she meets Lexa’s eyes, and the brunette raises an eyebrow silently in inquiry.

“Everything okay?” Lexa asks. To Clarke’s left, Octavia has noticed the interaction and tears her attention away from her brother. Both of the brunettes are trained on Clarke, now.

“Mom just randomly text me and asked you over for dinner tonight after practice,” the blonde says. Octavia immediately breaks into a grin, a devilish glint in her eyes as she takes Clarke’s phone into her own hands to read the text. Clarke goes a deep shade of red and covers her face with her hands. Lexa notices the edges of her cheeks pushing out in a smile.

“Lexa just got asked to dinner by Abby,” Octavia announces, locking Clarke’s phone and tossing it back into her best friend’s lap. Lexa spins around in her seat and looks to Anya pleadingly, who raises an eyebrow in amusement.

“Did she, now?” the older blonde taunts. Lexa is quite certain she’d like to bury her face in her hands and never look up again, but before she can do so, Anya too smiles wide. A quick glance around reveals that everyone else has picked up on the conversation, too, and all talk of the language has ceased. Lexa can feel several pairs of eyes trained on her and Clarke.

“Meeting the parents already, Lex?” Lincoln teases quietly, his banter unusual from his typical characteristics. Lexa rolls her eyes, eliciting a smile from the older boy. 

“Getting serious there, Alexandria,” Raven prods next. While Lincoln deserved only an eye roll, Lexa has no reservations in her comeback to the other brunette.

“I will slit your throat, Raven.”

Raven snickers proudly at the response, and Lexa bites back a grin. She turns her eyes back to Anya, but does not miss Costia’s shit-faced grin as she glances by.

“Think Gus will let me?” Lexa asks her older sister. The shortened version of Gustus’ name rolls of her tongue absently though she hasn’t called him Gus since she was ten. She doesn’t have much time to think of it, however, because Anya is shoving her own phone in Lexa’s face.

Clarke reads it first, and she breaks into a content smile. Gustus has already been informed and approved of the dinner. As soon as she reads the news, Clarke texts Abby back to let her know that the meal was a go. Her thumbs dart across the screen, and Lexa feels her heart flutter at the way the tip of her girlfriend’s tongue sticks out of her mouth in concentration. Though she says this constantly, about practically every little thing Clarke does, it may quite possibly be the cutest thing Lexa’s ever seen.

The rest of the lunch is spent half listening to the continuing conversation about the language. There’s far too much preoccupying Lexa’s mind, however, to pick up much. The only thing she remembers hearing is “Azplana” in reference to Nia, who has been dubbed the Ice Queen. The detail hardly registers, however, because Clarke is squeezing her hand excitedly under the table and Lexa has to keep biting her cheek to keep from constantly grinning.

\--

“Last movement, guys, let’s make it the best!” Kane yells from his place in the press box. No one can see him, but his voice is commanding enough. Clarke’s arms burn slightly as she holds her baritone perfectly still directed right to the box. If it weren’t for having stolen Raven’s extra pair of sunglasses, she’d have been blinded by the gleam of sunlight reflecting off the metal and into her eyes.

Clarke is trying to focus, she really is. She’s doing a fairly good job of it, too, for the first half of the song. Her fingers move rapidly on the valves, the sixteenth note runs slipping effortlessly from the bell of the horn after hours of practice. The blonde takes a moment to be proud of her success, and she revels in the sensation of playing such challenging music with ease. That familiar rush of pride and energy surges through her as the closer builds, and for a moment, she’s lost in the music.

Just before the ballad part of Jupiter, however, her concentration slips and gives way to distraction. Lexa marches in front of her, her chin tilted high and biceps accentuated by the rapid movement of her arms, and Clarke forgets to breathe. She stumbles a bit over her feet, and to her left, Nathan Miller smiles. It takes everything Clarke has not to reach over and smack him, but despite this, she can’t help but grin, too.

When the movement finishes, Kane gives a moment of silence to let the feeling sink in. It was one of the most powerful times they’d ever played it, and as Clarke listens intently to the pants and shallow breaths of those around her, she feels tears prick at her eyes. She blinks them away hurriedly and waits for Kane to speak.

“Incredible work tonight, guys. We’re making a big change to the third movement tomorrow and next week in the drill, and I expect the music to be just as incredible then as it was now,” Kane announces. No one moves a muscle, and though it hurts, Clarke wills herself to stay perfectly upright. She wonders momentarily what the huge change will be, and excitement floods through her at the possibilities.

“Dismissed.”

Clarke’s arms fall to her sides with a heavy sigh, one that resounds through the rest of the band, as well. She instinctively turns around, her eyes searching for her friends. The movement ends in the shape of Arkadia’s emblem, a trademark that has been kept for years on end, no matter what the show is. The three triangle shape has the group of them scattered yards apart, with Clarke being the connection point in the very front of the form.

“Shall we, loves?” Clarke asks as soon as everyone is gathered. Sweaty and still panting, the rest of Skaikru nods and they head inside.

Twenty minutes later, all is packed up and the bulk of the sweat has been cleaned off in the bathrooms. Clarke feels somewhat better, but she knows both she and Lexa will enjoy taking showers when they get to the house while Abby cooks dinner. 

Just as her mother comes to mind, she comes around the corner into the band room as Clarke and Lexa are heading out. Abby smiles at the two of them when they meet eyes.

“You both need a shower before dinner,” Abby says, seeing their still greasy-looking faces. “You reek.”

Clarke giggles and gently shoves her mother to the side, eliciting a grin from the older woman. From the corner of her eye, Clarke sees Lexa chuckling as she looks down at the ground. 

\--

They both abide by Abby’s request. Clarke showers first, despite her protest as she offers it to Lexa. Her girlfriend, however, denies the offer and says she can wait. 

Now, Clarke is out and in comfortable clothes, brushing the tangles out of her still damp hair while Lexa finishes up in the shower. A soft, quiet hum comes from the bathroom attached to Clarke’s room, and the blonde grins and blushes pink with adoration as she realizes that Lexa is humming in the shower.

The water shuts off a moment or two later, and it only takes a couple of minutes for Lexa to step into Clarke’s room, dressed. There are still droplets of water on her face and neck, and her head is tilted to the right as she towels down her dripping hair. Though she wears a pair of Clarke’s sweatpants with her own t-shirt, and her skin is still red with the warmth of the water, the sight still makes the blonde’s heart race.

“Clarke?”

She jolts, her eyes snapping up to Lexa’s green ones that now look to her. She realizes that she must look like a deer in headlights, because Lexa immediately breaks into a grin. She tosses the towel into the heap at the end of Clarke’s bed, to be dealt with later, and sits down on the bed next to her girlfriend.

“Yu ste meizen,” Clarke whispers, feeling entranced once again at the sight of Lexa’s curly, messy hair. It is mostly dry now, only damp like Clarke’s own. Lexa’s grin settles into an adoring smile as she reaches her hand out for Clarke’s.

“Yu, seintaim.”

Clarke smiles, her racing heart doing nothing to slow itself down as she rests her head on Lexa’s shoulder. As if by instinct, the brunette moves her arm gently out of the way to wrap it around Clarke’s body. Tiredness from the rehearsal is creeping in, but the excitement for the dinner still yet to come is enough to keep the two of them awake.

“15 minutes girls!” Abby calls from downstairs. The smell of taco meat, with Jake’s recipe of seasonings, wafts up the stairs and into the cracked door of Clarke’s room. 

“Okay!” the two of them chorus back. 

For a couple of minutes, the two of them only sit there in a comfortable and content silence. Their eyes fall shut, and when Lexa’s breathing begins to even out, Clarke wonders if the brunette has fallen asleep sitting up.

“Lexa.”

“Clarke.”

Eyes search the room for a certain object, and Clarke finds it leaning against the bookshelf where she’d left it the night before. Sleep had not come easy for whatever reason, but playing the guitar had put her senses to rest quickly enough.

Gently, Clarke wriggles her way out of Lexa’s grasp, and the brunette lets her go. She strides over to the guitar, pulls it into her arms, and sits on the edge of the bed. Her bare feet dangle over the edge, swinging back and forth for a moment. The melody she had been perfecting the night before flows shakily from her fingers.

Wordlessly, Lexa stands, leaving Clarke momentarily confused. The brunette walks around her and heads to the left of the bedroom door, where an electric piano is set. It’s a keyboard, really, but it’s advanced. It even responds to the pressure with which a person hits the keys, so Clarke doesn’t bother reducing it to merely a keyboard. 

Lexa gently pulls out the cushioned bench, settles herself in the center of it, then turns on the piano. She plays a few tentative notes to test the feel of it, then looks up to Clarke. 

“Play it again.”

“You play piano?”

“Shhh. Don’t question me.”

Clarke grins and rolls her eyes at the demanding brunette diagonal from her, then complies with the request. She gives four taps to the body of the guitar to establish a tempo, then starts with the melody again. 

She shouldn’t be surprised, but when the same melody flows effortlessly from the piano across from her, she stumbles slightly over the strings. Lexa looks up to the blonde while her fingers still absently dance across the keys in unison with Clarke’s melody. Smiles form on both of their faces.

“What’s that song even called, again?” Lexa questions as they play to the end of it. It’s merely a long introduction to a rock song, but it’s several minutes long.

“Love Song by Tesla,” Clarke replies, laying the guitar gently on the bed behind her. “Dad played it in the car sometimes. That’s just the intro.”

“It is? I always thought it was the whole song. Anya used to play it constantly and she taught me when I was ten without ever telling me what it was,” Lexa replies, the words coming naturally off her tongue. “It took me forever to learn it.”

Clarke smiles at the image of Anya and Lexa at a beautiful black grand piano while the usually impatient Anya helps a struggling Lexa learn the song.

Lexa reaches up and turns the piano off, then rests her hands on her thighs. Her elbows bend slightly to avoid locking, and again, the biceps Clarke had noticed earlier on are prominent and visible once again.

“Dinner’s ready!”

Lexa stands and moves swiftly over to Clarke’s side. She holds out one hand, her long and slender fingers warm and comforting as she helps Clarke to her feet.

\--

“Beja, Klark!”

“NO! That’s so gross, Lex!”

Lexa rolls her eyes and groans at her girlfriend. 

“What is so wrong with garlic in sour cream? That’s a normal combination in food!”

“On TACOS?”

There’s a slightly concealed snicker from behind the two of them, and Lexa spins on her heels. Abby is standing behind them, her already prepared taco rolled and overflowing with its contents onto the cream colored plate in her hand. Her free hand covers her mouth, but the same round cheeks as Clarke’s pushing out of the edges of her hand gives the smile away.

“What?” Clarke asks incredulously to her mother, causing Abby to snicker once again. Lexa feels the corners of her mouth trying to twitch up into a smile, but she’s supposed to be annoyed with her girlfriend, so she fights the urge. 

“You two fight like a married couple,” Abby says, removing her hand so that she can place a few tortilla chips on the empty part of her plate. 

Before she can stop it, Lexa’s grinning now, and so is Clarke. The pair of them meet eyes, and even while smiling, Clarke manages to roll her eyes. She reaches up into the cabinet and grabs the powdered garlic seasoning and tosses it to Lexa.

“You’re still gross,” the blonde mutters.

“Jerk.”

Finally, after a few more minutes of bickering about the right things to put on tacos, the pair of them join Abby at the dinner table.

“Alright, Lexa,” Abby says, and Lexa stills, her mouth still full. She has to remind herself to keep chewing, and Clarke snorts next to her. Abby grins and wipes her mouth before continuing.

“You’ve been in band with Clarke for three years now, but I still don’t know anything much about you,” the older woman says. 

“What do you want to know?” Lexa asks. She sips on her water tentatively, hoping she won’t make a nervous fool of herself.

“Have you always lived here?”

Lexa shakes her head, and this gets Clarke’s attention. The blonde turns her head to listen to her as she continues to munch on tortilla chips and salsa.

“I lived with my parents in Azgeda territory for a while,” Lexa explains. “If Anya and I had stayed there, we’d have been Azgeda kids.”

“Good thing you didn’t, then,” Clarke says tentatively, and Lexa notices her caution. She smiles, and the blonde visibly relaxes. It’s a touchy subject sometimes, still, but she knows Clarke means no harm.

“So, you and your parents moved up into this area?” Abby continues. Again, Lexa shakes her head.

“They couldn’t properly care for us anymore,” the brunette says. A familiar heaviness threatens to creep in, but she doesn’t let it. “Gustus adopted us about a month after they dropped us off at a foster home.”

Sometimes, Lexa doesn’t feel anything about it all. She can tell the story or think about her parents and not feel a thing. Sometimes, however, it gets to her. She wishes that tonight was not one of those times.

“Has it always been just you, Gustus, and Anya?” Abby asks quietly. Lexa nods, and the heaviness creeps in against her will. It must register on her features, for Clarke places a hand on her knee underneath the table.

“I never had a mother,” Lexa admits. She swallows the bite of food in her mouth hard, and once she’s done, she feels her jaw twitch back and forth. Why was she spilling all of this?

“You do now.”

Lexa and Clarke both look up to Abby, who smiles with just half her mouth at Lexa. The brunette opens her mouth to speak, and all she gets out is a series of little clicking sounds. The surge of emotions in the brunette’s chest seems to have rendered her speechless. This doesn’t faze, Abby, however, and Lexa realizes that the older woman wasn’t expecting Lexa to say anything. Instead, the brunette simply smiles back gratefully, and Abby nods.

The three of them return to eating for a few moments, a comfortable silence settling over the dinner table. Clarke’s hand never leaves Lexa’s leg.

“What’s your favorite song?” Abby says suddenly, pulling them out of the quiet. Lexa smiles softly as lyrics flow through her mind at the question.

“I bet I can guess this one,” Clarke says through the last bite of her taco. As Lexa digs into the chips and salsa she has not yet touched, she raises an eyebrow in challenge at the blonde.

“Hey Jude,” the blonde responds, and Lexa grins.

“I approve,” Abby says. “You’ve passed the test.”

The three of them share a moment of laughter, and the conversation that follows is one that Lexa knows she will replay through her mind on rough nights time and time again. They talk of their pasts, the good and the bad. Lexa opens up about Titus, the caretaker Gustus had for her and Anya when they were younger. Titus was a good man, but a strict one, too. He was the reason behind the idea that nothing less than the best was acceptable. He was the reason behind the mindset that feelings and pain made a person weak. He tried to teach them that love was weakness, too, but both she and Anya failed at that mantra almost immediately. Clarke and Abby talked seemingly endlessly about Jake. This doesn’t bother the Lexa in the slightest; she could listen to them talk about him for hours. The more Lexa heard, the more she wished that she could have met such a wonderful man. She thinks to herself, however, that hopefully he watches over the them all and already knows her, anyway. 

Dinner finishes around 8, and Lexa doesn’t have to be taken home until 9:30. She and Clarke offer to help Abby clean up the kitchen, but the older woman waves them off. (While Abby washes the dishes, however, they sneakily and quickly gather up as many of the containers of toppings as they can. They leave them in a nice stack by the refrigerator and tiptoe out of the kitchen in an attempt to go unnoticed.)

When the two of them get back to Clarke’s room, they move the guitar and flop onto the bed tiredly without a second thought. 

\--

Lexa lays on her back in the center of Clarke’s bed, leaving no room for Clarke on either side. The blonde doesn’t even hesitate to climb on top of her girlfriend and wrap herself around her. She nuzzles her head into the crook of Lexa’s neck, and the brunette’s arms curl around Clarke’s torso. One arm moves up toward her shoulders, and Clarke’s eyes fall shut as she feels fingers running through her hair.

“Are you quite comfortable?” Lexa asks quietly, and Clarke smiles lazily against Lexa’s skin.

“Indeed.”

They don’t speak for a while, and Clarke allows her mind to roam. She breathes in slowly, savoring the scent that is completely and solely Lexa’s. The brunette’s chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, and eventually, it slows just enough that Clarke knows she’s asleep.

Clarke’s eyes flutter open, and she pulls back just slightly to look at Lexa’s face. Her eyes have fallen shut, and even with dark circles beneath them, Clarke thinks she’s never looked more beautiful. The gentle glow of the bedside lamp leaves a warmth to her rosy cheeks. Her lips are slightly parted so that she can breathe a little easier. Warm streams of air hit Clarke’s own lips, and she pulls the bottom one in with an attempt to not lean down and kiss the girl right then.

Not wanting to wake Lexa, Clarke slowly lowers herself back into the crook of the brunette’s neck once again. Before she can help herself, she places a gentle kiss to the soft, warm skin in front of her.

Clarke’s efforts are useless, because Lexa stirs immediately after. The brunette pulls in a quick, deep breath and stretches slightly. Her muscles relax, and she turns her head to the right so that it can rest on Clarke’s.

“Clarke.”

“Lexa.”

Clarke’s lips ghost their way up Lexa’s neck, just barely trailing kisses up to behind the brunette’s ear. Lexa shivers slightly, and Clarke doesn’t move. Instead, she lets her lips rest on the patch of skin for a moment in silence.

The words tumble from her lips before she can think, and they feel as natural as breathing. 

“Lexa, I love you.”

For a moment, there is nothing. Neither of them even so much as breathe. Clarke’s heart jackhammers in her chest as she waits for Lexa to respond somehow.

Suddenly, the brunette wriggles away and brings a hand up to lock it behind Clarke’s neck. Clarke doesn’t have time to react before lips are pushing themselves passionately onto her own. She lets out the air in her lungs and melts into the brunette, kissing her back in the same fashion. Her hand tangles messily in Lexa’s hair and pulls her in closer.

When they both pull back, breath shuddering and hands trembling, Clarke watches as Lexa’s lips struggle to form words.

Finally, though, they come.

“I love you too, Clarke.”

Clarke feels tears pricking at her eyes, and she giggles in disbelief at the sensation. Lexa chuckles and pulls her close again, her thumb running across her hairline as Clarke buries her face in her neck for the third time.

Still shaking lips press to Clarke’s forehead, and the moisture building in the blonde’s eyes begins to spill over. Tears of joy slip down her nose and onto Lexa’s collarbone, and Lexa immediately notices. When the brunette pulls Clarke’s chin up gently so they may meet eyes, Clarke is somewhat surprised when she sees tears dripping down Lexa’s cheeks, too. They both slowly grin, and Clarke leans forward to rest their foreheads together.

“We’re ridiculous, Alexandria,” she whispers, and Lexa doesn’t bother slapping her like she normally does.

“Yes we are, Clarke Rylee Griffin.”

The use of her full name makes Clarke’s heart flutter, and she leans down to place a kiss to the tip of Lexa’s nose. Fresh tears well up in the brunette’s eyes, Clarke doesn’t question why. Instead, she kisses away each one as it falls, and though the action produces more, she kisses those away, too.

In one swift move, she flips the two of them so that Lexa is resting on her chest rather than vice versa, and the brunette does not protest. Instead, she curls up as close as she can to Clarke and presses her lips to every patch of skin she can reach. When she’s satisfied, she settles down into Clarke’s neck, and tears fall even still. The blonde traces gentle circles on her girlfriend’s back.

Clarke’s heart breaks in two as she feels the brunette’s body jolt for a second in a suppressed sob. Her arms wrap instinctively tighter around Lexa, and Lexa curls in tighter, too.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Clarke whispers into Lexa’s reddened ear.

Lexa breathes in shakily, then lets it out slowly in an attempt to calm herself.

“No one has ever been this gentle with me.”

Not even a beat passes before Clarke is throwing her legs around Lexa and readjusting their position so that they are completely ensnared in each other’s embrace. As Clarke kisses Lexa’s forehead, the brunette kisses gently on Clarke’s collarbone in response.

The last thing Clarke sees before she falls asleep is the clock reading 8:42. She knows they’ll have to leave soon, and that Abby will likely walk in to find them tangled up like this, but she doesn’t have it in her to care. She is too tired, this bed is too comfortable, and Lexa is too beautiful for her to get go. She slips into a dreamless sleep without another thought of protest.

\--

“Girls, it’s-”

Gustus and Abby stop in their tracks. The door to Clarke’s room is wide open, and the sight before them is one they weren’t quite expecting to see.

Abby sighs. She sees barely perceptible lines on her daughter’s cheeks, and she recognizes the look. Despite the tracks left by tears, Clarke’s face is calm and at peace as she rests against Lexa’s forehead. From the half of Lexa’s face that Abby can see, the brunette is in just the same state. Their chests rise and fall slowly, nearly perfectly in sync with each other. Abby doesn’t miss the way Lexa’s fingers are curled tightly in Clarke’s shirt, and Clarke has her arms wrapped around Lexa as tightly as her sleeping form can muster. Abby had walked in to find her, Raven, and Octavia cuddling in bed before, but this is different. She knows that this is something much deeper. She thinks that she probably should feel defensive or like they should be separated, but she can’t. She can’t bring herself to tear her daughter away from someone who loves her as much as Lexa does. 

Abby turns to Gustus, and she searches his face for any sort of frustration or protectiveness. She finds none. Gustus turns to her, and for the first time she’s ever seen, he smiles.

“Shouldn’t we be doing something about this?” he asks. Abby grins back and shrugs.

“What are they hurting?” she asks, and Gustus nods in agreement. As if by some unspoken understanding, Abby shuts off Clarke’s light and pulls the door slightly closed, then the two of them head downstairs.

“She’ll borrow some of Clarke’s clothes, I’m sure,” Abby says as they reach the front door. Gustus nods and steps out into the cool night air.

“They’re good for each other, you know,” he says quietly. Abby says nothing and instead lets him continue. 

“I haven’t seen her cry in years.”

Abby’s heart begins to ache at the statement. Her mind flashes back to the year and a half that it took for Clarke to finally cry again after Jake’s death. She knows what Gustus must be feeling, and she sighs.

Gustus is about to turn around to leave, but a thought strikes Abby.

“Mr. Woods?”

He turns around, a small smile on his face. “Gustus.”

“Yes, Gustus. I know it’s just you and the girls at home,” Abby says. “Would you three like to join Marcus, Clarke, and I for dinner sometime?”

At the mention of Marcus’ name, Gustus smiles just a bit wider. Abby goes red, realizing what she’s revealed. Only Clarke knows that the two of them are beginning to see each other.

“Thank you, Mrs. Griffin. We’d love to.”

“Abby. Goodnight, Gustus.”

“Goodnight, Abby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay - it's been a crazy week. I hope this makes up for it!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lock-ins are quite possibly the greatest bonding exercise (or not) you could possibly have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little shaky writing-wise, but it's the longest chapter I've written yet. I hope it's still enjoyable!

**Wanheda:** _ lexa _

**Wanheda:** _ lexa wake up _

**Wanheda:** _ BABE WAKE TF UP _

 

Lexa groans at the sudden vibrations next to her head. Her pillow is suddenly alive from repetitive texts lighting up her phone screen. Though sunlight streams in through her window, the screen is still far too bright for the brunette’s taste. She dims the brightness before checking the messages.

As she wipes away a lovely string of drool coming from the corner of her mouth, Lexa can’t help but grin at the messages she’s just been bombarded with. The time on her phone reads 11:13 am, and she understands now why her girlfriend is pleading for her wake. (She can’t really expect Lexa to be awake yet, though, considering they didn’t go to bed until 5 in the morning.)

\--

**Heda Leksa:** _ good morning to you too. What time did you wake up? _

**Wanheda:** _ prolly like two seconds ago. Anyway. Not important.  _

**Wanheda:** _ what time is practice? _

**Heda Leksa:** _ like...6?? _

**Wanheda:** _ good. So you’ll be over in twenty, right? _

\--

Lexa grins, ear to ear. Though her eyes are still heavy with sleep, they snap open at the idea of spending the first half of the day with Clarke. She reaches up from beneath the covers and rubs the tiredness out of her eyes, shivering at the sudden coolness of the air, then flings the blankets off in one swift motion. She takes in a sudden breath as goosebumps cover her skin.

\--

**Heda Leksa:** _ yes, I’ll be over in twenty. So needy. _

**Wanheda:** _ i came out to have a good time and im honestly feeling so attacked right now _

\--

The text draws a snort from the sleepy brunette, and she decides that to actually get around she’ll need to stop texting. She sends back a quick rolling eyes emoji and heads to the closet to find some clothes to throw on. Her bag for the night is already packed, so all she has to do is get dressed and de-grossify, and she’s ready to go.

Normally at 11 something on a Wednesday morning, Lexa would be sitting in Zoology class. While most people took it as a blowoff period, she’s quite enamored by animals. She particularly appreciates squids, though they’re less enjoyable when you have to dissect them. Memories of the previous day’s events make her shudder slightly, but she shakes the thought immediately. Her focus returns to the built in days off that the good Lord has blessed them with. A built in couple of days off always means just one thing for the band. That thing is a lockdown.

As terrifying as the term lockdown might sound, it’s actually one of the best parts of the competition season. On the night between the first day and the second day off from school, the band gets free reign of the school to stay up until ungodly hours of the morning playing games and watching movies. (With rehearsals each day, of course, but that’s not the point.) The school always schedules this odd two day break the week before semi state, and it makes for a wonderful break to recollect as well as lots of extra practice time. 

Ten minutes later, Lexa dons a baggy t-shirt and her favorite sweatpants, braided hair, and her overnight bag with everything she’ll need for the lockdown. She strolls into the living room, where Anya is already waiting for her.

“You want a ride, or you want to walk?” she asks, a small grin on her face. She’s sitting on the couch watching some action movie with a giant bowl of Captain Crunch in her lap.

“It’s only ten minutes away, I’ll walk. Besides, I wouldn’t want to tear you away from your Captain Crunch,” Lexa teases. She grabs for her hoodie that’s draped over the back of the couch next to her older sister.

Anya grins wider now through puffed, full cheeks. “Good choice. See you tonight, squirt.”

“Love you too, An,” Lexa says, quickly kissing her sister’s cheek. Anya groans, but as Lexa turns around to walk out the door, her sister doesn’t even try to hide her smile.

\--

“Twenty minutes to the dot. Impressive.”

“I’m a punctual person.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and pulls Lexa in the door, quickly shutting it behind her to keep the cold air out.

When the two of them round the corner to the kitchen, where Lexa can already smell something cooking for lunch, the sight before her is not one she’s expecting.

Kane sits at the counter, flipping through what appears to be drill book pages. His beard is scruffier than usual, and his hair is only just slightly messy. As he’s sipping on a cup of coffee, he looks up and meets Lexa’s eyes.

“Good morning, Lexa,” he says, as if it’s normal to find your director in your girlfriend’s house with your girlfriend’s mother. Abby turns around from her spot in front of the stove at the sound of his voice, and immediately breaks into a grin at the sight of Lexa standing there.

“I meant to tell Clarke to tell you before,” Abby says. She’s grilling strips of chicken on a stove-top griddle, and Lexa’s stomach growls at the scent. It occurs to her that as noon is approaching, she hasn’t eaten since 5 the night before. She silently hopes that the food is almost finished, because upon noticing the fresh berries and yogurt that is likely to accompany the chicken, she doesn’t know how much longer she can wait without dying of starvation. She nearly snorts as she sees Clarke sneaking a few of the berries while her mother’s attention is elsewhere.

“How long has this been going on?” Lexa asks, discreetly accepting one of the stolen berries from Clarke as she makes her way back to the brunette’s side. Their hands absently interlace, and neither of the two make a move to detach.

“A couple of months,” Kane says. “We had hoped to tell you about it before dinner this Friday.”

Lexa smiles, remembering that the Woods family would be joining the Griffins (and Kane, apparently) for dinner the night before semi-state. 

“Well, I mean, you did tell me before dinner,” she says, and this time, it is Kane who smiles. He nods and takes another sip of his coffee.

Clarke stands up on her tiptoes and tries to peer over his arms to see what he was looking at, but Kane doesn’t miss her action. He grins as he swallows and flips the papers over so that the blank side is facing upward.

“No special treatment. It’ll be a lot of work to get it right, but I think we can pull it off in two days, especially with the extra rehearsal time tomorrow.”

Both Clarke and Lexa pout, now, leaving smiles on both Kane and Abby’s faces.

“Hungry?”

Lexa doesn’t think she’s ever moved as fast as she did then.

\--

“You can do one more run, right?”

Clarke looks out of the corners of her eyes, and both the people on either side of her hold the same unamused expression as her own. 

“I’ll make you a deal...one more run of the new stuff and we can go play dodgeball. Deal?”

As much as she loves Kane, especially because of how happy he makes her mother, Clarke wants slightly to toss her baritone up to the press box in hopes that it’ll hit him. However, she knows that every extra run of the closer they can get is worth it. With dodgeball as an incentive, there seems to be less resistance to Kane’s request, and everyone goes back to the first set of the closer without another word of protest.

Three minutes later, after a few small stumbles but a fairly good run, everyone is racing to get inside. Even the percussion is rushing the front ensemble equipment inside, and the guard is helping. The dodgeball tournament is always the kick off of the lockdown, and Clarke is more than ready to kick her friends’ asses.

“You’re done for!” Bellamy exclaims as he runs past the blonde, his tuba seemingly weightless in his right hand. Clarke rolls her eyes but grins as she picks up her pace to chase after him. Ahead of her, Lexa and Raven are racing inside. As much as Lexa wouldn’t want to admit it, Raven is the faster runner. Clarke can’t blame Lexa for being slow, however, with twenty pounds of metal hanging off of her.

They all ended up tumbling inside the band room door, panting and out of breath but smiling. Clarke manages to make it in just before Bellamy, and he sends her a defeated grin with a glint of competitiveness that she knows will come out in the dodgeball tournament coming soon. 

Instruments are put away hurriedly but carefully, of course, but there’s still time before the tournament is to begin. Everyone around begins to gather the things they need for the tournament, such as bandanas and other accessories to individualize themselves. Clarke is about ready to whine about not having anything cool when Anya comes around the corner with black paint and paintbrushes. A smile breaks out on everyone’s faces at the sight, and they immediately get to work.

When the paint is finally finished, Skaikru wordlessly files down to the gym. Kane, Abby, and a few other kids are already there, but most people are still getting themselves around in the band room. Clarke wonders if the other kids notice how “oddly close” Kane and Abby are being.

The blonde grins to herself at the memory of Lexa’s reaction to Kane and her mother being together earlier in the day.

“What’s that smile for?”

Speak of the devil.

The blonde spins to her left to see Lexa, Raven, and Octavia approaching her. Their faces are still red and damp with sweat, which will surely only worsen as the dodgeball tournament progresses. More students are starting to pile into the gym, and someone has gone and gotten the dodgeballs out.

“Thinking about how much I’m going to kick your ass,” Clarke quips back, eliciting proud grins from Raven and Octavia. They’re both some of the most competitve people that Clarke has ever met, and having them on her team will be a major plus. Lexa’s going down.

“Legendary Wanheda, bringer of death, huh?” Bellamy kids as he makes his way up behind Lexa. Raven and Octavia join Clarke on either side so that the teams are separated.

“Death to your ego,” Octavia taunts. Raven lets out a snort of amusement and her hand flies to her mouth. When she brings it away, she’s biting her cheek in a desperate attempt to keep her grin hidden.

Soon, the rest of the two teams appear. Anya and Monty are with Clarke’s team, and Jasper, Lincoln, and Costia add themselves onto Lexa’s. It’s loved one against one loved one, and Clarke is sure that “love” will be all but gone when the competition begins. 

As the last of the kids make their way into the gym, Kane calls everybody to the center of the floor. Clarke finds her mom’s eyes and smiles as she stands on the sideline. She smiles back and waves, then returns her gaze to Kane.

“Alright, here’s how it’s going to go. There’s going to be a few preliminary rounds, and the final competition will be between the two undefeated teams on either side of the bracket,” Kane explains. “Round one on the left side of the gym….Skaikru One versus The Delinquents.”

He stops for a moment and shakes his head at the team name, and John Murphy smirks. When Kane raises his head again, the two of them share an amused glance. 

“Always you, Murphy,” Kane says, and for the first time Clarke can ever recall in a while, Murphy actually genuinely laughs. He mutters something playfully that sounds oddly familiar, and Clarke looks over to Bellamy with a raised eyebrow.

“What was that?” Bell asks Murphy. Murphy grins again.

“I said ‘shof op.’ Your little language has kind of taken off. Haven’t you noticed?” the shaggy haired boy asks. Everyone around nods, and Clarke smiles. 

“Apparently not. Good to know,” Bellamy says. His chest practically puffs outward with pride at the realization, and a quick glance around reveals the same stature in the rest of the Skaikru group as well. 

After a bit more explanation and the lining up of the dodgeballs on the center-line, Kane runs off the court and blows a whistle. 

It takes two grueling hours of running, throwing, and dodging, but finally the hundred players that began in the tournament reduce down to two teams. Of course, those two teams are none other than Skaikru One and Skaikru Two.

Clarke is exhausted. Her competitive spirit was brought to life in the first part of the tournament, and her body aches. Sweat pours down her face and she has never been more excited to take a shower after the game is over. The girls locker room will surely be bombarded, so she makes a plan to sprint there and have her mom bring her clothes the second that Skaikru One wins the game. 

Skaikru One is lined up on the southern side of the court, and Skaikru Two is on the northern. There’s fewer dodgeballs lined up on the center-line this time, considering that these two teams are the smallest. On either side, each person is set in the stance that runners take before taking off in a race.

The black war paint on their faces is still dark around the eyes, but it runs even more than usual down their sweaty cheeks. The drips reach their chins. If Clarke’s being honest, they probably all look pretty terrifying at the moment. The thought brings a smirk to her lips, and she stares down the people across from her.

\--

Lexa stares menacingly at the people lined up across from her as she waits for Kane’s whistle. 

“I’ll very much enjoy beating you!” she calls across the line toward the others. Everyone grins, now, and from the corner of her eye, she sees Bellamy snicker. 

“Yu gonplei ste odon!” Anya yells back, and not even a millisecond later, the whistle blows.

Lexa charges forward. Her feet carry her faster than she knew she was capable of, especially with how exhausted she is. Her legs ache, her arms ache, she’s sweaty, and she feels almost terrible. The adrenaline coursing through her, however, keeps her going. She will win this. It may only be a dodgeball tournament, but she will win this.

She and Costia grab for the same ball, and Costia is only just faster. She snatches the ball away, and Lexa nearly trips forward. The only thing that stops her is Lincoln pulling her soaked tank top backward so she can regain her balance. He seems unfazed by the sweatiness of it and instead sends her a wink. He then draws his arm back and throws the first ball.

It flies through the air so fast that Costia doesn’t even have time to think to move out of the way. It hits her arm with a loud smack, and the spot immediately turns red. She groans and throws the ball she’s holding back to Raven, then turns to Lincoln.

“Blood must have blood. Don’t you worry,” she says, taking two fingers and flicking back and forth between her eyes and Lincoln’s. Lincoln lets out a short laugh in response as the wild haired brunette sulks off the court.

Lexa is so distracted by the interaction that she barely jumps out of the way when a ball goes soaring toward her, and she snaps her attention to the source. Octavia grins and waves her fingers innocently.

“Pay attention, Heda,” she taunts, and Lexa grins tauntingly. She turns quickly to grab for the ball and lobs it as hard as she can in Anya’s direction. Her sister just barely misses it, but Lexa doesn’t miss the twitch of her jaw.

Suddenly, another ball comes flying past Lexa on the left, and Jasper lets out a groan as he’s hit. Raven grins proudly and jogs closer to the line.

“Jus drein jus daun!”

Once someone from both team is down, it becomes an all out war. There is no love between siblings or significant others, and certainly not from friends. Only when they get themselves out do they inquire if the other is okay. If one thing is for sure, Lexa is impressed by the sheer power of their upper body strength. Every hit makes a bombastic smack and Lexa can already see the welts forming. 

Clarke gets herself out before Lexa, but only just. The second Lexa finishes taunting Clarke for having gotten her out, a ball slams into her bare upper arm painfully. She hisses with a momentary sting before it gives way to a minorly painful throb, and she looks up to seek her assailant. Octavia gives her that same taunting grin and wave.

“You weren’t paying attention,” the brunette says, and Lexa rolls her eyes but grins. She accepts her defeat and walks over to Clarke, who’s rubbing her leg where she was hit.

Abby and Kane walk up to those who are out and look them over. Every single person has a giant red spot, some of which are bruising or welting. 

“You are by far the strongest and most competitive people in this band,” Abby says, handing each person a small bag of ice. They accept it graciously and grin sheepishly. 

“Should we be mad that we literally caused welts?” Clarke asks, looking over at Lexa’s arm, then down at her own leg. Costia chuckles as she examines her own reddened arm before she places ice on it.

“Probably, but dude, that was so good. That was the best game of dodgeball of my life,” she says, and Clarke grins. 

Soon, it is only down to Bellamy and Octavia. The other 98 kids, along with Abby and Kane, surround the court to cheer them on.

“Bellamy! BELL!” Clarke cries out, and he grins. His eyes don’t leave Octavia’s, and the ball in his hand gives under his tight grip.

“Not gonna work, Princess,” he says, and Clarke snaps her fingers in mock disappointment. Lexa can’t help but roll her eyes at her girlfriend’s antics.

“Pay attention, gona!” Lexa teases to Octavia on the other side of the court. The brunette spares her a moment’s glare, but her eyes are trained on Bellamy just a second later.

“Funny, Lexa,” she deadpans back.

For a moment, the two of them simply stare each other down, neither making a move to throw the ball. 

“Do something!” Murphy calls. He’s standing in a fairly open clearing, his arms crossed and legs spread slightly in an unamused stance. He doesn’t appear to be truly annoyed as he typically is, for his smile is again genuine. Lexa wonders momentarily what has changed his demeanor.

She doesn’t get long to wonder, however, because two balls are suddenly soaring through the air at record speed. Murphy is pelted twice by the dodgeballs, nearly knocked backward by the simultaneous force. A roar of laughter sounds at the sight, and even Murphy grins despite the two red spots on his arm and leg. Octavia chuckles to herself at the syncronised thought process between herself and her brother.

In one unbelievably swift move, Bellamy takes advantage of her distractedness and lobs another ball toward her. It hits hard square in the center of her bicep, and cheers erupt at the victory. Octavia turns around and glares at her brother as much as she can, but happily runs toward him when he opens his arms for a hug. The rest of Skaikru runs up to join them.

“That was cheap, Bell,” Octavia says, her voice muffled by the hug. Several arms wrap around them both in a giant group hug that no one asked for but no one is denying, either. 

“Should’ve been paying attention,” Lexa says as she wraps her arms around Octavia. The brunette elbows Lexa in the ribs, nearly knocking the wind out of her. 

“Jeez, we’re violent. People must think we hate each other,” Monty says. 

“I hate you guys,” Costia says, smiling. Lexa knows the words veiled beneath the teasing remark, and she grins back in response.

“Hate you, too,” they chorus as they break apart from the hug.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to run to the showers…” Clarke says, tearing off. Knowing that they’ll quickly fill, it suddenly becomes a race to see who gets there first. 

Lexa sprints past Clarke with the last bit of energy she has left, grinning. 

“Alexandria I swear to-”

\--

By the time everyone is showered, clothed, and settled, it’s somewhere past one. Getting one hundred students showered with ten showers to each locker room takes a fair amount of time, and some people have taken the time to get in a nap. Skaikru is going strong, however, and when the last two boys come back, they’re somehow still wired.

That could, of course, have something to do with the fact that there was cake and ice cream waiting for them in the band room when they returned there, but that’s not the point.

“When do you think we’ll crash?” Clarke inquires. Her body has become a pillow for Lexa, Raven, Octavia, and Costia, and Anya is using Lexa’s stomach as her pillow. Lincoln and Bellamy sit down on either side of Octavia’s legs.

“Think we can make it to 6?” Costia asks from her place on Lexa’s left. Lexa rests in the crook between Clarke’s neck and shoulder, and Costia is using Clarke’s stomach as her own pillow.

“Challenge accepted,” Raven agrees. She holds up a feeble thumbs up, and Lexa grins against Clarke’s collarbone.

“HEY!”

Clarke lets out a squeak of surprise that nearly deafens Lexa, and the brunette winces at the sudden sound. She can’t judge too hard, however, because Kane’s booming voice had startled her, too.

Slowly but surely, everyone wakes and pulls themselves into a sitting position. Kane has changed into sweats and a t-shirt, and now stands at the front of the room. Abby leans against the doorway, donning similarly comfortable clothing. Lexa notices that her eyes look tired, but just barely so. 

“We’re going to have movies playing in the gym on the big screen, and we’ll have Just Dance going in here. You’re free to roam anywhere you please, I trust you. Don’t break anything, no babies, don’t leave the building, and we’re good,” Kane says. He must be tired, because his demeanor is infinitely more relaxed than usual. Lexa snorts at his statement as she runs her hand up her goosebump-covered arm.

“Well, with that basis, what’s the plan?” Raven asks. Silence falls as they consider their options, and a wicked smile crosses Anya’s face.

“Oh no,” Lexa mutters. The grin grows, and Lexa’s concern does, too.

“Guess who has keys to the prop room.”

“I still want more cake and ice cream. One more plate and we’ll go?” Octavia says. Clarke grins and nods excitedly, and the lot of them make their way back to the table of desserts. When Clarke’s hand slips into hers, Lexa lets out a content breath as relaxation settles over her. It’s a good night.

\--

When they reach the prop room somewhere around two, the tiredness is beginning to give way to delirium. The exhaustion from practice followed by the dodgeball tournament is evident on everyone’s faces. Dark circles, nearly as dark as the war paint, surround bloodshot eyes. Despite being so deprived of sleep, spirits are high, and there’s an obvious sugar high.

Anya quietly shuts the door behind them so as not to get caught (not that it would be a problem anyway.) 

Lexa immediately searches the room for the corner in which the armor was placed last time they visited. It appears as though no one has walked into this room since then, because the pile of swords and armor is still in the same corner where it was left. Clarke tears off toward it, narrowly avoiding tripping over some stray cords strewn across the concrete floor. Lexa is quick to follow. Again, she gains a lead on her girlfriend and makes it to the pile first. She quickly grabs for the shoulder guard and two swords, and Clarke whines annoyedly.

“Branwoda,” she mutters. Lexa grins in response and clips the shoulder guard onto her shoulder. It fits perfectly around her frame and the red sash flows behind her majestically. When she deduces that there’s ample space, she twirls the swords with finesse in her hands.

“How do you do that?” Clarke asks, trying and failing to mimic Lexa’s motions. The sword clatters loudly to the ground.

“Natural, I guess,” Lexa teases, twirling the swords again. Clarke rolls her eyes and clips on some armor of her own. 

The room, gigantic for its purpose, soon engulfs each person. The center of the room becomes empty, save for Clarke and Lexa, and everyone is off on their own adventures.

What they return in is rather interesting. Bellamy and Lincoln return to the center of the room wearing what appear to be guard uniforms and holding Nerf guns that have been painted to look genuine. Raven has found the same spacesuit that she had before, but this time, she’s put it on. Somewhere, she must have found duct tape and a Sharpie, for the front of it now dons a label with the name “Reyes” on it. Anya and Octavia wear a strange mix of tattered and ragged clothes with some sort of light armor. It reminds Lexa of what the apocalypse might look like. Finally, Costia appears in a beautiful gown made from flowing black fabric that has the same aesthetic of Anya and Octavia’s clothes. 

“What post apocalyptic world did we just drop out of?” Bellamy asks, and Lexa grins slightly. 

“I don’t know, but look at the symbols on the spacesuit and the guard uniforms. They’re the same. Same show, maybe?” Raven says. Lexa’s eyes follow Raven’s gaze, and she’s right. 

“Must’ve been years ago. I don’t remember this at all,” Anya says, and Lincoln nods in agreement. He glances down to the same symbol on his own uniform. 

“I like the symbol. And it is on a spacesuit. I hereby declare it to be the Skaikru emblem. Clearly, we must brand it into our skin,” Costia says, inflecting her voice to sound high and mighty. Anya snorts and rolls her eyes.

“You’re so dramatic,” she teases, and Costia sticks her tongue out in response. However, Raven is already pulling out the marker that she found. She takes the spacesuit off but for the helmet and begins to copy the emblem onto her wrist.

Five minutes later, each member of Skaikru (including Monty and Jasper, who showed up in the middle of it and immediately grabbed for a guard uniform and a second spacesuit) dons the official emblem of Skaikru.

“Guys, why can’t we be normal? How many friend groups have emblems and a language?” Clarke asks, and everyone grins in response.

“We’ve never been normal, Princess of Polis,” Bellamy says. Raven, Octavia, and Clarke each gasp in realization.

“That’s what that kingdom used to be called! Dude, you were the worst leader ever,” Raven teases, and Clarke scoffs. She attempts and half succeeds at twirling her sword and holds it poised as if to fight Raven.

“That’s the most exaggerated version of ‘fight me’ I’ve ever seen,” Jasper mutters. This causes everyone to break into a fit of giggles, only quelled by Clarke rolling her eyes and biting her cheek to try not to smile.

“Challenge of the day,” Costia says suddenly, breaking the content silence that had since settled over them. Lexa grips the hilt of one of the swords and drives it gently into the ground, twirling it on the concrete below. She raises an eyebrow in silent inquiry.

“Create the scene. Go.”

Lexa and Anya grin from ear to ear. Even though they were well over the age of imaginary worlds while in middle/high school, they didn’t let that stop them. Costia had this thing where she would say “create the scene” and suddenly, they had to create a random scene. It was one of Lexa’s favorite games, the only one where she ever saw Anya truly have fun.

She was the first to jump in. Out of nowhere, she jumps behind Bellamy, Raven, Jasper, Monty, and Lincoln and push them down to their knees one by one. They each let out a yelp of surprise, but don’t protest.

“Heda. I bring Skaikru,” she says, her voice suddenly steely and cold. Lexa tries her hardest not to grin, but a small one slips anyway. She immediately wipes it off her face when she realizes it’s her turn to add to the scene.

“Ron ai ridiyo op,” she says. She feels herself straighten out her back and raise her chin. Next to her, Clarke gulps and Lexa again has to stave off a grin.

“I don’t speak your language, Grounder,” Bellamy snaps back, perfectly in character. Costia raises her eyebrow in surprise. 

Lexa jumps forward and presses the tip of her sword to the soft spot beneath Bellamy’s chin and raises it so that they meet eyes. They hold a stare so intense that for a moment, Lexa forgets that they’re only acting. She decides then that they would make incredible actors and wonders if that might be a way to take up time during their free time in the winter months. She hadn’t talked about it much, but acting had always fascinated her.

“Ai laik Heda, Belomi kom Skaikru,” she snarls. Bellamy gulps and his eyes widen. Lincoln is suppressing a grin next to him, and Lexa again has to bite her cheek to maintain her composure.

She looks up to Costia, and the two of them meet eyes. Costia takes that as her cue.

“Anya and I both found them,” she says, and Lexa nods. “The girl was in a ship and they were trying to get her out.”

“Is she hurt?” Clarke says suddenly. When Lexa spins around, there’s a genuine expression of concern on her face. The two of them meet eyes and Clarke just about smiles, but she doesn’t. Lexa does not miss the twitch in the corner of her lips, though.

“Made yourself cozy here, huh? After leaving Arkadia?” Bellamy snaps, catching Clarke’s attention. 

“Dude, this is so cool,” Monty whispers incredulously. Lincoln lets out a snort of amusement, and everyone can’t help but to grin. Clarke bites her cheek and clears her throat, trying to get back into her character.

“I’m sorry, okay? I couldn’t stay. I just… I couldn’t. Raven, are you hurt?” Clarke asks. Lexa marvels in the way it seems she’s completely lost to her character.

Raven shakes her head and puts on her best angry face. 

“That one brought me food and water until Bellamy found me,” she says, pointing toward Octavia. Octavia straightens her back and clears her throat.

“I...yeah, I did,” she says, stumbling over her words. She grins, but quickly bites it back.

“Oktevia kom Trikru,” you say, meeting her eyes. She steels over and nods. “You have aided the enemy.”

“Wanheda is the enemy, too. Why not condemn her?” Octavia quips back immediately, thoughtlessly. Lexa imagines how much she and the other three of the original friends had gotten into their imaginative worlds as children and wonders if they too carried it into their older years.

Lexa sighs, knowing that her character has found herself in a predicament. She racks her brain for an idea of how to carry it forward, but someone speaks before she can.

“Has no one noticed Commander Heart Eyes this whole time?” Jasper says. 

\--

After Jasper’s comment, Clarke feels her ears go red and her cheeks heat up. There’s no point in trying to continue the scene, because they all burst into a fit of laughter that is too large to be reigned in. Delirium shows through once again as the laughter builds and builds until they’re all sitting on the floor struggling for air.

“Commander Heart Eyes,” Costia chokes out, wiping at her watering eyes. “That’s your new contact name.”

Clarke looks to her left, where Lexa is rubbing at her likely aching cheeks as her face slowly returns to a normal color. The redness slowly dies down with the laughter, and soon there’s only little giggles here and there.

“I think we’d be great actors,” Raven says, setting the helmet of the space suit down on the floor in front of her. “Well, some of us.”

Monty and Jasper grin and raise their hands in surrender. 

“I’ll make you the equipment to film all you want, but ask me to act again and it’ll probably be worse the second time around,” Jasper admits, and Monty makes an approving face in response. Clarke grins, her cheeks going nearly numb from the amount that she’s smiled tonight. She decides that of all the types of pain for one to feel, this is one of the best.

“Winter project?” Anya suggests, unstrapping some of the armor so that she can sit comfortably. Everyone’s eyes, tired as they may be, light up. That’s agreement enough, and Clarke finds herself already excited for the winter to come. As someone who hasn’t really particularly liked snow and the cold, it sounds to her like a perfect way to make the frigid months feel a little warmer.

Slowly but surely, the various garments and props are stripped away into piles on the chilly floor. There’s little imprints from where the buckles and seams have pressed into their skin, and Clarke can see everyone’s emblems again.

She smiles, a smaller one this time but still filled with just as much joy. As she sees the clock on the wall approach three in the morning, she feels someone bump her shoulder gently.

She turns to see Octavia nudging her with an inquiring look.

“We really are ridiculous,” Clarke says. 

“Indubitably,” Lincoln agrees, and Costia scoffs in his direction.

“What kind of… it is three in the morning Lincoln. You’re not allowed to use big words,” she says, and for the first time all night, the tiredness in her voice is evident. Clarke feels herself fighting a yawn as she realizes how heavy her eyelids are beginning to feel. The sugar high is beginning to come down.

Lexa leans against Clarke’s side, and the blonde instinctively reaches her arm around to pull her in closer. The corner of Anya’s mouth twitches upward almost imperceptibly at the sight.

They sit in silence for a few moments, simply looking around the room. Clarke scans the seemingly endless piles of props, searching for anything that looks out of place from the themes that they’ve already found. In one corner, she sees what could be the remnants of a boat prop, and her suspicions are confirmed when she sees a piece of wood leaning against the wall that reads “S.S. Arkadia.”

_ Kane is nothing if not consistent,  _ Clarke thinks, noting how the high school’s name is used in nearly every show.

“I’m hungry,” Octavia says suddenly. 

“Think there’s any cake left?” Raven asks, cocking her head. Bellamy’s eyes widen and he leaps up, then tears down the hallway. Lincoln, Jasper, and Monty follow immediately after him, and the collective eye roll that follows brings a grin to Clarke’s cheeks for the umpteenth time that night.

\--

“Here’s an idea.”

Clarke wills herself to keep her eyes open. They feel heavy and the need for sleep is advancing quickly, but she staves it off as much as she can. She isn’t yet ready for this night to end.

With Abby and Kane’s permission, Skaikru has taken up residence in the little side office in the band room. Kane never used the space for anything, and the empty room save for a few papers blocked out sound wonderfully. You’d never guess that there’s a game of Just Dance happening on the other side of the wall, and for that, Clarke is eternally grateful.

They’ve arranged themselves so that they’re lying in a circle, with their heads resting on the giant mass of pillows in the center of it. There are blankets and sleeping bags spread out beneath them to create what is essentially a giant bed. Clarke pulls the comforting fleece of her father’s blanket up to her chin and listens.

“What’s your idea?” Lexa asks to the brunette a few people away from her. Octavia takes a quick breath and continues.

“We should go around and tell something from our pasts that the others might or might not know. Just something interesting. And you only get two sentences to do it, so make it good.”

Clarke smiles. Any game of this sort is always interesting, as she’s learned from past experiences. Every time, she learns something new, or at least learns a new detail about an old situation.

“Who wants to start?” Anya asks. Lexa’s fingers begin to trace small, absent patterns on the underside of Clarke’s forearm, and it becomes a bit more difficult to stay awake. 

There’s a beat of silence, but Jasper speaks first.

“When I was 15, my girlfriend Maya died from too much radiation exposure and I died that night, too. I didn’t come back to life for a month.”

Silence falls over the room for a little while, and Clarke’s heart feels heavy. Lexa stops drawing patterns and instead clamps her hand gently around the blonde’s arm in comfort.

“I watched my mom get shot. She’s okay, but it was still the scariest thing I’ve ever seen,” Monty says next. His voice is thick and unsteady, and Clarke doesn’t even have to look to know that Jasper has his hand resting on his best friend’s arm.

“Jesus,” Raven whispers. Clarke can tell already what kind of personal revealing session this is going to turn into, and she prepares herself for what she might hear. As emotional as she knows it might get, she knows that these are some of the most special nights of all.

It’s Lincoln’s turn to speak.

“Before I was adopted, I grew up in a gang family. My father made me hurt people.”

Clarke stills. It’s hard for her to imagine such a gentle soul like Lincoln ever laying hands on somebody, but then, it clicks. It clicks to Clarke why he became so gentle.

“You are not that person, Lincoln,” she whispers. He doesn’t respond, but all that matters to Clarke is that he heard her. She trusts that Octavia will hold his hand just a little tighter to remind him that the blonde’s words are true.

Octavia is up.

“Mom adopted me when I was 5, but I still remember the days I spent locked in somebody’s basement. I’m still afraid of the dark.”

This time, it’s Lexa who reacts. She inhales sharply in surprise, and from the corner of her eye, Clarke can see the moisture collecting at the corners of Lexa’s eyes. Clarke squeezes her hand gently.

“When you were 6, you fell out of a tree and I thought Mom was going to kill me. That was the day I created the mantra of ‘my sister, my responsibility’ and stuck to it ever since.”

A collective “aw” resounds through the room, and Clarke is grateful for the slightly lighter air. Despite their differences, the Blake siblings have one of the strongest bonds that Clarke has ever seen, and she’ll never stop admiring it.

Raven’s turn.

“The best parent figure I ever had was the mechanic named Sinclair at the garage around the corner. We talked every day for five years until he died from the weight of a car crushing him.”

Clarke hears movement across the sleeping bags, and she leans up to search out the source. Bellamy has reached his hand out and entwined it with Raven’s, and she turns her head sideways toward them. It’s not enough to hide the way her eyes start to brim over with tears and her lip wobbles unsteadily. Bellamy doesn’t say a word, and instead runs his thumb across the back of her palm.

It is Lexa’s turn to speak. She takes a deep, calming breath and begins.

“Gustus was gone a lot when he used to have to travel everywhere for business, and we had essentially a nanny named Titus,” she says. “He tried to be a teacher, but what he taught me still haunts me to this day.”

“Love is weakness. To be successful is to be alone. Feeling is weakness,” Anya chimes in. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”

Lexa nods, then lets out another deep exhale. Her eyes fall shut, and her jaw tightens. “I hope one day we can.”

There’s a sense of finality to her words, and everyone seems to notice that. Clarke traces a gentle heart on the patch of skin that cushions the base Lexa’s thumb, and Lexa’s slow blink is the only acknowledgement Clarke needs.

She realizes soon thereafter that it is her turn to speak. She says the first thing that comes to her mind.

“I keep thinking that I shouldn’t have let him go that night. I should have made him stay.”

“You never could have known,” Costia whispers. The sudden voice, one that had stayed silent since the beginning of this game, is soft and gentle in a way that is not heard often. Clarke squeezes the brunette’s hand with gratitude for a moment, but she doesn’t trust herself to speak. Costia doesn’t seem to ask her to. Besides, it is her turn, anyway. She pauses for a few moments and looks upward as though in thought.

“I never even had a friend until I was in middle school. I never imagined I’d have a whole family.”

The words are bittersweet, and they make Clarke’s chest rush with the strangest combination of sadness and happiness at the same time. She reaches down to squeeze Costia’s hand again, but this time, the action is out of comfort instead of gratitude. Costia hangs on for just a moment longer, then gently lets go. 

Then, it is Anya’s turn. She had already contributed to Lexa’s thoughts, but still, they give her an opportunity to speak her own mind.

For a moment, Anya is completely silent. Clarke isn’t even sure that she moves. Concerned, she sits up slightly and peers over Costia to check on Anya. Even through blurred vision, the sight she sees is one she’s not prepared for, and she has to keep herself from gasping audibly. Lexa leans up next to her and her breath shudders in surprise.

Anya’s eyes are screwed shut as tight as possible, and moisture is collecting at their seams. Her nose is bright red, and her cheeks have gone a shade of pink. It is not the first time that they’ve ever seen Anya cry, but this is different. 

“An?” Lexa whispers, and Anya takes in a quivering breath in response. Her eyebrows furrow in what seems to be true pain, and Clarke’s heart thuds in her chest.

“I am weak,” Anya says simply, her voice no more than a whisper. “I have been weak for a long time. And now, I have found people who will allow me to be.”

The statement hits Clarke like a freight train slamming into her chest, and she feels her eyes immediately begin to water. Before even a moment of thought can be given, she, Costia, and Lexa all climb over to Anya and create a sort of dogpile over the girl. Carefully and gently, everyone around them follows until they’re all lying in a dogpile of hug on the floor. The clock on the wall reads 5:53 in the morning, and as Clarke’s eyes fall closed against Anya’s chest and the emotion of the conversation crashes into her like waves, she knows that sleep is coming to find her soon.

“It’s okay to not want to be lonely,” Lexa whispers. “It’s okay to want to be loved.”

Those simple declarations shatter the rest of the resolve Clarke has, and it seems to have the same effect on Anya and the others. There’s an audible exhalation of breath after Lexa’s words, and they sink into each other even further. Silent tears slip down Clarke’s cheeks she tries to comfort while being comforted. She doesn’t know who’s rubbing circles on her back, and she can’t tell whose hand she holds, but she doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter. She loves each and every person in this room and she isn’t going to let anything stop her from showing that. 

When the weight of everyone laying atop of each other gets to be too much, they change positions. They return to the original circle, but this time, people begin to curl up to each other in preparation for the night’s sleep. Just before Clarke lays her head down, she realizes that the entire circle is connected. One way or another, each person is touching the people on either side of them.

“Ai hod yo in,” Anya whispers, and Clarke’s heart clenches in the most wonderful kind of pain. 

“Oso hod yu in, seintaim.”

The last thing Clarke registers before sleep finally washes over her is Lexa’s fingers squeezing just a little bit tighter around her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any feedback is appreciated! I don't know how much I'll be able to write for a while, life is getting crazy. Every day, though, I'm trying to write for at least a little while.


	12. Chapter 12

It’s finally here. 8 weeks of hard work has led them to this day. Every year they promise to make this day worth it, and finally, this year, Lexa can say that she feels like they have. They have worked harder than ever before and finally, they are ready for this day. Each season before, she left with a part of her feeling empty, like something is missing. Today, for the first time, she could leave and feel fulfilled. But, of course, that’s not the goal.

While Wednesday was full of fun and games, the last practice before Semi State was something straight out of hell. Every year has its handful of bad practices, and this season is no exception. The phrase “blood, sweat, and tears” was exactly what Thursday’s rehearsal had encompassed, as much as Lexa wishes it hadn’t. 

The new drill was kicking them hard. A company front is one of the hardest forms to master, because each person has to be perfectly in the giant line created across the length of the field. Shoulders must be lined up exactly, so perfectly square that a flat board must be able to run across their backs. Trying to nail that set along with making sure that any other noticeable issues were fixed was absolute hell. 

To make matters worse, after she was already in a shitty mood, she’d gotten cut by the edge of one of the snare players’ drum in the middle of rehearsal. He snapped at her for being in the way, and Lexa was having none of it. Just as she was about to snap back, Clarke overheard from her place in front of Lexa and tried to stand up for her. Before Lexa could think to bite her tongue, she snapped at her girlfriend that she didn’t need her help. This was something she would soon come to regret, because Clarke was quick to come back at her.

\--

_ “I don’t need your help, Clarke, I’m a big girl,” Lexa snaps, wiping her injured hand on her tank top. It was black, anyway, no one would notice. She makes a note to clean the cut as soon as she gets home, knowing Clarke and Abby both would have a hissy fit otherwise.  _

_ “Excuse you?” Clarke asks, and Lexa freezes. She’d said that out loud. She feels her blood run cold as she realizes her mistake, but the tone Clarke is using makes it boil just ever so slightly. _

_ “I was simply saying I can stand up for myself,” Lexa says, looking up to meet her girlfriend’s eyes. The blue eyes that usually resemble calm waves crashing against the shore now look aflame with anger. Lexa gulps. She’s never been the target of Clarke’s temper before, and she never thought about what she would do if she was. _

_ “Is it so bad that I was trying to stand up for you?” Clarke mutters. Lexa sighs and rolls her eyes, then attempts to turn around. She soon realizes that was not the right choice. _

_ Clarke grabs her arm and whirls her around, the weight of the tenors nearly making her trip. She doesn’t allow herself to do so, however, and she meets the blonde’s angry eyes once again. Raven and Bellamy have noticed the situation, and the way they’re trying not to smile makes Lexa want to scream. She loves them, she really does, but right now she would really also love punching them. _

_ “Don’t walk away from me,” Clarke says, her tone cool. Lexa sets her jaw, trying her hardest to stay calm. _

_ “Clarke, it’s a bad night, you’re already pissy, let’s not do this,” she replies. Her cut is beginning to burn, and she looks down. Red is beginning to seep from it again, and a groan of frustration makes its way up her throat. _

_ Clarke leans forward and reaches her hand out to Lexa’s arm, but Lexa flinches away instinctively. She doesn’t need Clarke’s help, it’s just a little cut. Titus never fussed over little cuts, there was no need to do so now years later.  _

_ “Oh my God, Lexa, would you stop being so stubborn?” Clarke groans. “Let me see it.” _

_ “Clarke, I’m fine.” _

_ “Lex, just -” _

_ Lexa whips around and glares at Clarke, and if looks could kill, her girlfriend would be gone. As soon as the brunette sees the look of genuine concern filling Clarke’s eyes, Lexa wishes she could take back what she just did. She opens her mouth to apologize, but Clarke is already turning around and heading back out to the field. _

\--

That fight had ended with both of them apologizing and crying at the end of the night, and they have not yet lived down how ridiculous they are. The rest of Skaikru has made sure to tease them about it plenty, and though it sort of makes Lexa want to punch them again, she has to admit that they really are ridiculous. Besides, laughing about it makes her feel better about her and Clarke’s first fight.

All thoughts of the awful Thursday rehearsal are gone, however, because the Saturday morning rehearsal they just had was incredible. The energy Lexa wishes she had two days ago now courses through her veins, mixing with adrenaline and excitement that makes her heart race. She’s ready for tonight. It’s going to be unbelievable, and she simply can’t wait anymore.

Despite how much she wishes for performance time to arrive, however, there’s still several hours until then. There’s a meeting before they leave, and the drive is three hours long. With the meeting only just now about to begin, there’s at least six hours before their performance.

Skaikru sits in the front of the room, waiting for Kane to come in with Costia and Anya. Excited chatter creates a dull roar, but their little friend group is serenely quiet despite their excitement. Clarke leans comfortably against Lexa’s shoulder, her head resting in the crook of her neck as she slips her fingers into Lexa’s. The brunette instinctively runs her thumb across the back of her palm in slow, gentle movements, then turns her head to press a quick kiss to Clarke’s forehead.

Shortly thereafter, Costia and Anya come in and sit down, quickly followed by Kane. The room falls silent as he stops in front of the podium, and they all wait to see what he has to say.

“Every other year, this meeting has been the longest of them all,” he begins. His voice is quiet, but still loud enough to be heard. He holds a soft tone that quells Lexa’s excited energy into a content warmth rooted deep in her chest. She takes a deep breath and waits for him to continue.

“This year, however, I don’t think we need that. See, there was always so much to say. So many thoughts never brought to light, so many compliments never given, so many goals never voiced.”

“This is different. We’ve done all that. For the first time, we’ve done all that.”

Lexa smiles. It’s good to know that someone else feels the same way. Judging by the content grins plastered on the faces of those sitting around her, she decides that many others share that same view, too.

“There’s really nothing left to say that hasn’t been said before. I don’t care what happens tonight. For the first time the journey has been so satisfying that the destination doesn’t matter. I hope you have had as incredible of a journey as I have,” Kane concludes. It is enough. There is nothing inside Lexa that is reaching for something more, because for the first time, it is enough. 

“Seniors.”

The bus loading process begins, and the serenity of the silence in the room as people file out toward the busses is one that Lexa will not soon forget. 

\--

Clarke lets out a frustrated groan. She’s reaching as far back behind her as she can, but still, the zipper is just out of her reach. The one time where they’re all pressed for time, she can’t get her uniform on properly.

The problem was not that they left late. They left perfectly on time, and their rest stop took no more time than usual. The giant traffic jam on the highway, however, had put them half an hour behind schedule. Normally, things like this were planned for, and they did have a little bit of cushion room. They weren’t in terrible shape, but they definitely didn’t have time to goof around or slow down before it was time for transit.

“You’re going to pull a muscle, hang on,” comes a familiar voices. Clarke sighs and gives up her efforts. She lets her arms fall slack to her sides as a hand quickly tugs the zipper of her jacket up the rest of the way. It snags on a stray strand of blonde hair, making her wince.

“Sorry,” Lexa mutters, and she taps her girlfriend’s shoulder. Clarke spins around in the tight aisle space of the bus, already overcrowded with people. Lexa’s own zipper is only halfway up, and Clarke zips it fully. Lexa turns back around to face her.

With only the sound of creaking seats as a warning, the rest of the girls from Skaikru (save for Costia and Anya, who had to be ready as quick as possible) barrel over to the two of them. They had to have weaved their way through the rest of the girls on the bus, and Clarke marvels at their ability to do so.

“We ready?” Octavia asks. With her hair pulled out of her face, the sharp chiseled edge of her jawline is infinitely more prominent. Clarke has always envied the defined bones of her face, and she feels it surge again at the sight.

“Indubitably,” Lexa replies simply, and Raven rolls her eyes before turning around. They grab their shakos and make their way through the mass of changing girls, and Clarke lets out a sigh of relief when they finally reach open air.

The four of them walk in a comfortable silence to the side of the semi, where Costia and Anya are waiting to hand off instruments. Clarke grins gratefully as she realizes that the two of them have already gotten the instruments put together. Costia hands her her newly cleaned baritone, and the light beaming off of it nearly blinds her. When she regains her sight, instruments have been handed off and plumes are being inserted into the shakos.

“This could be it, you know,” Anya says quietly. She squints against the harsh light, likely still adjusting after standing inside a dark trailer for a few minutes. Her hand comes up to shield against the sunlight.

Clarke sighs, the realization still not completely dawning on her. She knows, logically, that the performance they’re about to do could be the end of this season. For some reason, however, it doesn’t seem real. The thought doesn’t make her want to crawl up in a ball because it doesn’t quite seem like a possibility.

“It hasn’t hit me yet,” Octavia says, voicing the thoughts of likely the entirety of the group. 

Strong hands suddenly clamp around Clarke’s shoulders, making her nearly squeak in surprise. A familiar chuckle sounds behind her, and she easily identifies the person.

“You still jump easily,” Bellamy teases, and Clarke juts her elbow backward quickly. The joint lands in Bellamy’s side, and he grunts on impact. 

“Love you too, Princess,” he mutters, and Clarke can hear Lexa, Raven, and Octavia all chuckling beside them. 

Before they have time to discuss the performance any further, Kane calls out the one minute warning before moving into block. The announcement makes Clarke’s heart suddenly begin to race, and she kicks herself for suddenly NOW becoming nervous. She’d staved off her nerves for hours, days, even, but the one time when she was supposed to remain cool and collected, they chose to kick in.

Wordlessly, Skaikru saunters over to their positions in the block. Clarke’s arms drop down in front of her, her silver horn still gleaming in the sunlight as she holds it in a to-the-ready position, awaiting Kane’s command. She allows herself a moment of silence and reflection as her eyes fall shut, the world around her dissolving into nothing. Her mind wanders back to the first competition, the first time they set foot onto the field this season, and she marvels at the progress they’d made.

If they nail that company front, they’re golden. At least, she prays.

\--

Warm-up comes and goes quickly, as it always does. The focus in the band is impeccable. Everyone is so dialed in to each individual task at hand that even their pupils are dilated. The only time Clarke’s focus breaks is for good reason. She looks up, intending to ensure that Harper’s feet were uniform with the rest of her line’s, and she catches her mother’s eye instead. Abby grins, speaking a thousand words with her eyes. Clarke only smiles slightly and nods back to her, knowing that will be enough to say what she wants to say.

“Come here. Bring it in,” Kane says at the end of musical warm-up. He stands in the center of the circle, and the 100 person shape collapses into a mesh of people around him. Clarke doesn’t need to look around; she needs only to hold out her hand expectantly before warm, slightly wet fingers slip into her own. A strong but gentle hand wraps around her shoulder momentarily, and the single squeeze of encouragement tells her that it’s Octavia standing on her right.

“I don’t care what happens today. I don’t. I will be proud of you either way. And in the City of Light, Thelonius Jaha is proud of you and who you have become. It has been an honor to be your director, and I will stand by whatever happens in ten minutes. I know who you are. That’s all that matters to me.”

A deafening silence settles over the band, and suddenly, everything is real. This could very well be the last time they perform this show, and Clarke isn’t sure she’s ever going to be ready for that.

\--

Lexa can’t breathe. It’s silly to say that, seeing as she doesn’t even play a wind instrument. But as they line up for the company front, horns blaring and hands moving like rapid fire across drums, she can’t take in a breath. Clarke’s face is deep red, the veins in her neck starting to pop out slightly at the sheer force of the air she’s putting through her horn. Her sound is loud and strong and powerful, and Lexa’s in awe. She has to pull out of that, however. She diverts her attention from her peripheral vision and focuses on moving forward.

Her arms burn like hell as she pushes herself to hit the drums just a little harder, tense just a bit more to make that movement just a little more smooth. The extra effort pays off, because even Lexa is impressed by the result of just a little more attention to detail.

The company front is pulled off perfectly, and Lexa couldn’t be more grateful. For the last few strains of the movement, they break off into their own respective spots. Lexa can’t help the grin that creeps onto her cheeks as she moves up next to Lincoln and closes her feet, freezing herself into her final set. She prays that the star form that they’ve moved into looks as good as she thinks it does.

When Anya finally slams her arms down and cuts them off with a stare so intense and alive with passion that it makes Lexa forget to breathe, there’s not even a beat before the crowd erupts with cheers. It’s the loudest response that they’ve ever gotten to a performance, but even before they began to cheer, they knew. It was by far their best show yet. It takes everything in Lexa to keep her face stoic as she marches off the field, stone faced and proud as Kane had always instructed.

It isn’t until they’re completely out of view from the field that anyone begins to react. Costia gives the command to relax, and immediately everyone begins moving.

Skaikru crashes into the same herd in a rush, all a mess of stumbling slurred words too excited to be properly said and shaking limbs. Lexa thinks she’s going to melt when she sees Octavia’s eyes begin to water and gleam with happiness as she tries to speak.

“Lex. LEX. That was so freaking good!” Costia exclaims, throwing her arms around Lexa’s shoulders. The brunette hears Clarke giggling next to her, and it sounds wet and emotional like Octavia had been. Costia opens one arm and in comes Clarke, a stray tear streaming down her cheek.

“I’m so proud of you guys, that was incredible,” Anya says as they round the corner to where the busses and trailer reside.

“Yes, it was.”

Lexa freezes, and Anya does, too. Out of the corner of her eye, Lexa can see both Clarke and Costia grinning ear to ear. Wordlessly, Costia eases the tenor drums off of Lexa’s shoulders and pulls them over her own. 

“We’ll be back in a moment,” she says, and Clarke places a quick kiss to Lexa’s cheek before heading off to put things away.

Lexa still can’t find it in her to move. She shouldn’t be this shocked. She sees him nearly every day in the good phases, and even when he has to travel for a long time, she still hears from him constantly. Still, he has never been able to come to a show before. 

“Gus?”

He instantly pulls both her and Anya into his arms, and Lexa melts into him. She’s surprised when she feels not only her own eyes beginning to water, but Anya’s breath hitches to signify the same from her. She scoots a little bit closer to her little sister, making Lexa’s eyes flood even more.

“It’s about time I showed up, huh?” Gustus says, his voice steady but emotional. He gently lets go, leaving room for the two of them to back up to face him. When he notices the tears in their eyes, he grins.

“When did you two get to be such softies?” he teases, and they both roll their eyes and lightly punch either arm. Gustus’ grin only grows at the sight.

A moment later, Abby, Clarke, and Costia return. The rest of Skaikru is nowhere to be found, and Lexa doesn’t mind. Selfish as it may be, she wants time with this family first.

“Miss Keryon,” Gustus says, holding out an arm to her. Costia grins and accepts his hug, lingering only for a few moments before they pull away. She and Gustus had grown fairly close ever since she and Lexa had dated, and it’s nice to have her as a part of the family, too.

“Good afternoon, Griffins,” Gustus says upon turning to Clarke and Abby. Abby reaches out her hand, and Gustus grasps her forearm. Abby doesn’t question it and does the same in return.

“Old handshake from old traditions,” Gustus explains simply, and Abby smiles and nods. Clarke, however, is not one for such formal interactions. Gustus knows this, for he pulls her into a gentle hug as soon as they lock eyes.

“That was incredible,” Gustus marvels, admiration shining in his eyes as he stares down at the girls. Abby nods in agreement, her hand resting on Clarke’s shoulder after she and Gustus have separated.

“Do you think we did it?” Costia asks. Lexa wipes at her eyes to rid herself of her blurry vision. When she can see properly, she can’t help but grin at the childish wonder lighting up her best friend’s face.

“Yes, Costia. I think you did.”

A combination of hope, happiness, and peace rises up within Lexa at Gustus’ words, and she almost doesn’t want to go to awards. She just wants to remember this feeling for the rest of her life.

\--

Awards, of course, do come. The band, recently dubbed The 100, make their way over to the stands. It’s standing room only, so they reside standing next to the fence to the left of the field. There’s only one performance left before awards. And who else would it be, of course, than Azgeda?

Clarke has tried to let some of her fury at the band go. She knows that they’re not all brainwashed by Nia’s mindset like Ontari still is. She knows that Roan is a respectful young man that does not hold the same hatred and ill-wishing toward them as Nia does. Still, she can’t forget the times that Azgeda has attacked them and sabotaged them. So, when they take the field and give an incredible performance as always, it leaves her with a scowl on her face.

That scowl is wiped immediately as soon as that familiar squeal of a microphone sounds over the speakers. Her agitation is promptly replaced by fear that makes her knees wobble and her breath hitch in her throat.

“Let’s give a round of applause to all of the incredible bands who performed today, first and foremost!”

“Come on, come on…” Lexa mutters under her breath as the crowd erupts into proud cheers. As much as Clarke, as well as every other student, appreciates their acknowledgement, it’s not the announcement anyone wants to hear. Even the cheering parents seem unfocused on the cheers, anxious expressions settling on all of their faces.

“Now, what you’ve been waiting for,” the announcer says.

Clarke shudders, and her knees buckle. Before she can stop it, she stumbles and has to crouch down to maintain her balance. Even squatting doesn’t help to hide the way her legs tremble with anticipation and fear of what might or might not happen. She feels two hands settle onto her shoulders, and she’d recognize each of them anywhere. Bellamy and Lexa keep her supported despite the tremors in their own limbs.

“Your State Finalists are, in performance order…”

Clarke can’t breathe. Her heart is racing at a thousand miles an hour. She fights to keep herself conscious as the hyperventilating begins to cause her vision to blacken. Lexa’s fingers tighten around her shoulder, and Clarke finds just enough stability to reach up and hold onto those shaking fingers in comfort. At the same time, she leans her head against Bellamy’s hand. Behind her, she feels two more people leaning down, and she doesn’t have to guess which two girls they are.

To keep her own nerves at bay, Clarke observes the reactions of everyone around her. She spares herself a look upward to find Costia and Anya standing with their hands behind their backs, and she nearly grins when she sees the tiny outline of the Flame on Costia’s shoulder. Both Costia and Anya’s faces are stoic and expressionless, but Clarke bets that one look into their eyes would reveal the true nervousness they hide. 

With each name announced, people begin counting on their fingers and scanning frantically through the performance order to see which bands have been skipped. It crushes Clarke’s heart to see the faces of those who were skipped, and she can only hope that, as selfish as it may be, she does not have to share their burden.

There’s suddenly a long pause, and Octavia lets out an audible groan of frustration. She huffs as she settles down onto her butt rather than her heels, and Clarke can picture her expression. This time, a little grin does creep onto her cheeks, but it doesn’t stay for long. 

“Seven down, three to go,” the announcer says, tauntingly. Clarke wonders what methods of torture would be most efficient, and which he is worthy of, because playing with their anxiety and emotions is not okay. Lexa lets out a long breath of air to steady herself. Clarke then decides that seven bands’ worth of announcements is long enough of a break for her shaking legs and pulls herself into standing position. Her hand immediately laces itself into Lexa’s, and the brunette’s shoulders fall ever slightly. Some of the worry releases itself from her features, and Clarke is grateful to be able to help.

By the time the seventh band is announced, and Arkadia is next on the performance order list, everyone’s hands are joined. Lexa holds tightly to a paling Raven while Clarke runs a reassuring thumb across the back of Bellamy’s palm while Octavia maintains a death grip on both his and Lincoln’s hands. Jasper and Monty attach themselves to the line next, and Monty winces at how tightly Raven is holding his hand. He winces again as Jasper grabs his forearm tightly, eyes wide with nerves.

“Your ninth state qualifying band is…”

“Beja, beja, beja…”

The word repeats incessantly under their breaths. Clarke squeezes her eyes shut and looks down, not sure whether she can handle looking around the stands while they await their moment of truth.

There’s barely enough time for the announcer to get out the first syllable before Clarke almost collapses again. Luckily, Skaikru is there to hold her up. They fall into each other, arms grabbing and wrapping absently, not caring who they were hugging. The cheers around them are nearly deafening, but it isn’t hard to drown them out. Clarke can barely hear them as she settles into Lexa’s shoulder.

Of course, Azgeda is announced as well, but they barely hear it. The second the drum majors are released from the field, Clarke can see just enough to watch them practically catapult over the fence and into the giant hug. Wet, joyful laughter erupts as Anya trips into Lincoln’s free arm, luckily not tearing anything in the process. The laughter turns into a gleeful sob that erupts from Clarke’s throat suddenly before she even realizes it’s happening. 

“I can’t believe…” Lexa attempts, not even able to get herself through the sentence. Her voice breaks off, and she grins through the sob as fresh tears spill over onto her rosy cheeks. Clarke doesn’t bother to stop herself as she kisses those damp cheeks repeatedly, eliciting laughter from those around them. 

They walk back to the busses, all sobbing, stumbling messes as they hang onto each other’s hands to keep from tripping. 

\--

Lexa’s knees are shaking so hard that she’s not sure even Anya and Clarke’s iron grips on her hands will be enough to keep her upright. 

The brunette can’t even begin to describe what she’s feeling. Joy bubbles up in her chest, making her throat tight and her breath shuddering. The joy is almost blissfully suffocating, and it’s one of the best things she’s ever felt. Happy cries break free from her and she does nothing to hold them back. It feels incredible to just be free in how she feels without inhibition.

This seems to be the case for everyone else in her group of friends, too. She hasn’t seen Anya cry this much or smile this wide in years. Costia, always quick witted and always having a remark, is rendered speechless as she grins to herself through happy tears. Even Bellamy, one of the most buff and powerful members of The 100, is reduced to almost unintelligible half-sentences and soaked cheeks. Despite seeing her best friends cry, Lexa’s heart is so full of joy and love that she feels like she’s going to explode at any second.

She doesn’t realize they’ve made it back to the busses until two pairs of arms scoop her, Anya, Costia, and Clarke up at the same time. Clarke lets out a yelp of surprise but quickly dissolves into a puddle of giggles as Abby places tons of quick kisses all over her forehead. Her own eyes are watery, and her smile is as big as Lexa’s ever seen it. 

Gustus simply holds them tighter than he has in a long time, and before she realizes it, Lexa’s giggling too. Fresh tears pour down her cheeks as her giggles turn to happy cries once again. The emotion in her chest is too great, and she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to feel it all at once.

“Daun don ste meizen,” Gustus praises, and Lexa’s too happy to question how he picked up those words. Instead, she whispers “mochof” three or four times in response.

Finally, after what feels like forever, they settle down. The happy sobs reduce to shaky voices, rosy cheeks, and watery eyes, along with the occasional sniffle. 

“I’m so proud of you. All of you,” Abby says. “You made it.”

“We made it,” Clarke agrees, seemingly confirming it to herself. Lexa has to do that inside her head, as well. She isn’t sure that the reality of it all would sink in if she didn’t.

Before anyone else can make an emotional comment, a puffy-eyed but devilishly grinning Octavia walks up next to Clarke and shoves a cupcake directly into her nose. The result is a wide mouthed Clarke with green frosting covering a good part of her face. Everyone bites back laughter as Clarke turns slowly to the offending brunette, who is now biting her lip in apprehension, and raises a threatening eyebrow.

“Yu na wan op, en na ste gon ai,” she mutters, her voice still shaky but menacing all the same. Lexa snorts as Octavia’s eyes widen as she realizes what she just did. 

“I suggest that you run,” Lexa whispers, her eyes darting up for just a moment to seek the cupcakes. She assumes that they reside on the table that roughly fifty kids are crowding around, now, and returns her attention to the throw down at hand.

“That does sound like a good idea, doesn’t it?” Octavia squeaks, and she no more than finishes her sentence before she darts off, and Clarke tears down the pavement after her, arm raised in preparation to strike. Her long, messy blonde hair flows majestically behind her, and Lexa grins again. Her cheeks are beginning to hurt, but she can’t find it in her to care. This is a pain that she would endure any day gladly.

“The war is won,” Gustus says, drawing Lexa from her loving trance. She snaps her head toward Gustus, whose eyes are warm with affection in a way she’s never seen. It makes her heart flutter contentedly as she listens to him speak. “Now, you celebrate your victory.”

“Does that mean cupcakes?” Costia asks, her voice meek and scratchy much like a tentative toddler. Anya snorts but throws her arm around the brunette’s shoulder in a quick hug. 

“Yes, Cos,” she says. “We can go get cupcakes.”

“JOK SHA!”

As the two of them run off, leaving only Lexa, Abby and Gustus both raise an eyebrow at Costia’s word choice.

“Does that mea-”

“Ignorance is bliss, Mama Griffin,” Lexa says, smiling. “I’m going to go eat cupcakes now.”

She’s just about to walk off to her friends before something in her makes her stop. Without a second thought, she lunges forward and pulls both Gustus and Abby into a quick hug, then whispers “thank you” before spinning on her heels to join Clarke and the others.


	13. Chapter 13

Sunlight is just barely beginning to stream in through the window when Clarke wakes with a start. She looks around frantically, noticing the rising sun, then looks to the clock next to her bed. She groans when she realizes that it’s 7:35 in the morning and she has ten minutes before school starts.

_ Great. Lexa’s probably freaking out. _

To her surprise, however, when she looks down at her phone, there’s not a single text...from anybody. She raises an eyebrow to herself in confusion, then tosses the phone away to rub at her tired eyes. She hardly slept last night, but Abby knows Clarke hates missing school for any reason. Especially the day before a competition.

Letting go of her frustration at being late, she throws the covers off of the bed and heads for the bathroom. The air is chilly, and she shudders, deciding that one second to go grab a blanket won’t hurt her. She moves to return to her room to grab her father’s blanket, then stops.

A sudden shuffling sound catches the blonde’s attention, and she strains to hear what’s going on downstairs. Footsteps and barely audible voices float up the stairwell, leaving Clarke even more confused than she was when she woke up. She steps into her room and pulls the blanket off of her bed, knocking her phone to the floor in the process, then wraps it tightly around her shoulders. The goosebumps covering her arms ease up slightly as she pads down the stairs, keeping her steps as light and stealthy as possible.

She gets about halfway down the steps, just before coming into the view of the living room, when a familiar voice catches her by surprise.

“...excused us. It won’t go against our records.”

Clarke tiptoes down the remaining five or six stairs, almost making it to the floor of the living room before that creaky stair right before the bottom let out a loud creak, alerting the guests of her presence.

Nine heads turn her direction, each with the same distinctive deer in the headlights expression. Clarke grins sheepishly, then tilts her head to the side inquiringly.

“Can I ask what the hell you’re all doing here at 7:40 on a school day?”

Octavia is the first to respond. Instead of explaining, she simply walks over to Clarke, stepping over the mounds of blankets and pillows that have been piled onto the floor of the living room. Clarke’s mouth falls open, brows furrowed as she tries to ask what’s going on when Octavia wordlessly wraps her arms around the blonde’s shoulders. Clarke freezes, unsure of how to react to these strange events, then realizes she’s being hugged and wraps her arms around the brunette’s middle. Her eyes fall shut, and her confusion drifts for a moment as she gives into the simple pleasure of being held so tightly. She lets her head fall onto Octavia’s shoulder and breathes deep, reveling in the type of hug that the two of them had not shared in a long time.

“There’s no reason to be at school today,” Lincoln says, his voice suddenly closer to Clarke. She and Octavia release slowly from their embrace, and when Clarke opens her eyes, the rest of Skaikru is much closer now than they were, surrounding her on all sides.

“We figured today might be a little easier if we stayed here with you,” Raven says. Her voice is soft and caring, lowered to a tone that Clarke does not see often. The brunette’s chocolate orbs are wide and full of concern for her best friend.

The words hit Clarke like a freight train, making her chest feel tight and her eyes burn. The more the words replay in her mind, the more she realizes the weight behind them. Moisture collects in the corner of her eyes, and she doesn’t have it in her to wipe it away.

“It really has been two years now, hasn’t it?” she whispers. Her voice cracks, and suddenly, another familiar pair of arms wraps around her waist. Lexa’s head rests in the crook of her neck and shoulder, and careful, loving kisses are pressed to her exposed collarbone. The blanket has nearly fallen off her shoulders, but Lexa’s body pressed against her own keeps it mostly in place. Lexa seems to notice and wordlessly steps backward, then pulls it up over Clarke’s shoulders. The action causes the moisture collecting in her eyes to spill over, but before the tears can even reach her chin, there are already thumbs brushing them away.

“We’re going to make today as wonderful as possible, okay?” Costia promises from her spot next to Anya. Clarke’s eyes dart from person to person, and when they connect with Monty’s, he gives a sad but loving smile that Clarke tries her hardest to return. She doesn’t trust her voice, so she merely nods in response to Costia’s promise.

“First, let’s sleep. Abby said you didn’t get to bed until 3 last night,” Bellamy says, his voice gruff and raspy. He too looks as though he barely rested, and Clarke doesn’t have to wonder why. When she called the Blake household in hysterics, screaming about how “he’s going to suffocate in that bag,” Bellamy was the one who picked up and drove with Octavia to the Griffin house in record time.

Clarke can do no more than nod in response to his request, and that seems to be enough. They all pile onto the mass of pillows and blankets on the floor, and Clarke falls asleep within seconds with Lexa’s arms wrapped tightly around her, her father’s blanket pulled all the way up to her chin.

\--

Lexa wakes some time later before Clarke. The clock on the wall reads 10:46 am, and the sun streaming in through the window nearly blinds her when she turns her head. The TV is on, and some show that she doesn’t quite recognize is playing with the volume down. She watches the screen for a few moments as she tries to wake completely, then looks around to see who else is awake.

Bellamy, Lincoln, and Anya have moved up to the couch, a bowl of cereal in each of their hands. The sight makes Lexa’s stomach growl, and she makes a note to go retrieve breakfast at some point in the near future. The three seniors, all looking barely awake themselves with bedhead and tired eyes, meet Lexa’s emerald ones with a half-hearted smile.

The brunette looks down to the girl curled up into her chest, her heart fluttering at the image before her. Clarke’s hair is wild and everywhere, splaying over her rosy cheeks but not hiding her face completely. She’s waking up, eyelids seemingly heavy as she opens them slowly, and she looks up at Lexa without moving her head. A few gentle rubs of the blonde’s thumb on Lexa’s back serves as a silent hello, and Lexa presses her lips to Clarke’s temple in return.

“Good morning, beautiful,” the brunette whispers against Clarke’s skin, her words slightly muffled. Clarke breathes in deeply, holding the breath for a moment before letting it out in one huff.

“Good morning, love,” she replies, her voice scratchy and hoarse. If Lexa didn’t know any better, she’d think the blonde was sick, but she knows that isn’t the case today. 

“Let’s get everybody up for breakfast, yeah?” she suggests. “We can make French toast if you want.”

“Daddy’s recipe?”

Lexa swears she almost loses it right then. A sudden swell of emotion bubbles up in her chest, leaving a lump in her throat that takes several swallows to keep at bay. She closes her watering eyes and presses her lips to Clarke’s forehead, now, and nods slowly.

“Of course.”

It takes a few minutes, but finally, the five of those who are awake get the others to wake up. Jasper, Monty, and Octavia wake up without much of a fight, but Raven and Anya are an entirely different story. They both groan and whine as people poke at their sides, and the way Clarke laughs when Raven throws a pillow at her face makes the lump in Lexa’s throat finally start to dissipate. She’s grateful for the way that no one treats Clarke like she’s broken. It seems to make the blonde forget, even if just for a moment.

Everyone helps with breakfast, allowing themselves to be guided by Clarke to make sure it’s done just right. She gives tips about how much cinnamon to add to the batter, and how you have to add the perfect amount of powdered sugar on top to make it just right. Thirty minutes later, when enough is made that they can finally eat, Lexa almost moans in delight at how good it tastes.

_ You’re quite the cook, Mr. Griffin,  _ she thinks, and her heart aches as she realizes what she’s doing. Lexa was never even overly religious, and certainly never thought it wise to give time and energy to the belief of life after death. Yet, now, she’s talking to someone who might never hear her.

Breakfast finishes somewhere around 11:45, leaving everyone comfortably full and content. Even Clarke seems to have stayed settled, and Lexa can only hope that it lasts throughout the day. She wants to keep her girlfriend as happy and distracted as she possibly can. 

“What’s the plan, Stan?” Lincoln asks, plopping back down onto the couch. He props his feet on the armchair, and Clarke gently swats them away. This elicits a grin from them both, and Lexa lets out a relieved sigh.

_ She’s okay, Lex. She’s okay. _

“You tell me. You’re the ones who bombarded my house at 7:40 in the morning,” Clarke says, taking Lexa by surprise as she pulls the two of them onto the couch next to Lincoln. The brunette ends up in Clarke’s lap, and she can’t say that she minds. Warm, strong arms wrap around her middle, and though she knows it’s supposed to be Clarke being comforted, she allows herself a moment to appreciate how secure it feels to be held so tightly.

“I, for one, think it’s jam session time,” Raven says, rounding the corner to reach behind the couch. Lexa grins, knowing what she’s going to grab. They’d secretly planned this day out, settling details and ideas late into the night before. The brunette’s suspicions are confirmed when Raven comes around the corner wielding her two cajon drums in one hand and a guitar in the other. She doesn’t stop there, however, because she quickly goes to grab a couple more guitars. She hands off the three guitars to Bellamy, Lincoln, and Monty, then hands off a cajon drum to Lexa. She accepts it and carefully peels herself off of Clarke’s lap, then sits on top of the drum to play it properly.

“I suggest you go grab your guitar and have Anya grab your piano. We’re having a jam session whether you like it or not,” Costia says, pulling shakers out of her overnight bag. Clarke grins wide and does not protest. Anya walks over to the blonde and holds her hand out, and the second Clarke takes it, she drags her toward the stairs. The two of them chase after each other, racing to Clarke’s room like toddlers. Lexa can’t help but notice the satisfied grin on Octavia’s lips.

“Think we can keep her okay for most of the day?” she asks, turning to look at the rest of the group. Jasper is the first to nod.

“We have to,” he says, and Monty nods in agreement. No one else speaks, but there’s no need. They all know what he means, and not a single person dissents against it.

Clarke and Anya return moments later, the guitar strung across Clarke’s back as the two of them slowly come down the stairs, each holding up one end of the keyboard. Anya mutters something about the stand and the bench, and Monty leaps up to go grab them. Raven is quick to follow, knowing the poor skinny boy won’t be able to handle both items completely by himself.

Five minutes later, everyone is scattered around the room, and almost everyone has an instrument. The only people without an instrument are Costia and Octavia, but considering they have two of the best voices in the group, not having an instrument isn’t an issue.

“What’s up first?” Anya asks, playing a few absent testing notes on the keyboard. She fiddles with the pedal to make sure it functions properly, then turns to Clarke expectantly.

The blonde looks up, her eyes squinting slightly as though she’s in thought. Then, after a moment of deliberation, a small smile crosses her face as she begins to strum a few chords on the guitar. Her tongue pokes out of the corner of her mouth, and Lexa thinks she’s going to melt at how adorable she looks. She begins to hum a familiar tune, but the brunette can’t quite place what it is.

“Do you know Saturn?”

Octavia grins immediately, ear to ear. Lexa takes that as a yes.

Instead of a response, Anya begins to play the beginning of the song. It’s a long introduction, at least a minute long, and Lexa recognizes it immediately. It’s a song that the two of them used to play together for hours when they were younger, but Lexa never knew the name. She realizes that Anya never taught her songs, she taught her music. The brunette makes a note to thank her for showing her the difference.

About two phrases in, Clarke joins in on the guitar, strumming simple chords to back Anya up. Not long after, Bellamy and Monty follow her lead, but they play varying rhythms and notes that make for a beautiful combination. The last addition to the powerful intro is Lexa playing a simple, subtle beat on the cajon. As the introduction finishes out, the brunette marvels in the beauty of the music, admiring the way the sounds work together.

\--

As the introduction comes to a close, Clarke clears her scratchy, hoarse throat. She hopes that her voice will come out better than she’s imagining it will.

“You taught me the courage of stars before you left

How life carries on endlessly even after death,” she sings. Her voice is raspy and scratchy, but still strong. She meets Costia’s eyes, and the wild haired brunette looks on in admiration. The two share a small smile before she takes over the next few lines

With shortness of breath you explained the infinite

How rare and beautiful it is to even exist,” she sings. Her voice is sweet and pure, a distinct and welcome difference from Clarke’s husky one. 

When they approach the bridge, several more people join in. Clarke immediately recognizes Lincoln’s gentle but strong bassline, as well as Raven’s deep and full alto voice. 

“I couldn’t help but ask for you to say it all again

I tried to write it down but I could never find a pen

I’d give anything to hear you say it one more time

That the universe is made just to be seen by my eyes.”

When the second half of the chorus comes in, they break into harmony by some unspoken agreement. Clarke’s eyes begin to water against her will at the sound, and she’s mesmerized. She looks over to Lexa, completely lost to the music as she harmonizes above Clarke, and her heart rushes with adoration toward the brunette. Even with bedhead and tired eyes, she still looks perfect. 

The jam session lasts for about an hour, and they sing songs that vary from artists like Sleeping at Last to Meghan Trainor, each equally as entertaining. By the time one rolls around, Clarke feels like her voice is all but gone. Still, though it is hoarse and quiet, she’s able to speak.

“So,” she husks, plopping down next to Raven after leaning her guitar against the couch’s edge. The brunette looks up to her, one eyebrow raised in inquiry. Clarke grins and raises a taunting eyebrow right back. 

“You and Bell have anything you want to say?”

Raven freezes, her clueless demeanor giving way to sheepishness. She knows she’s been caught redhanded, but Clarke can hardly sympathize. It isn’t like they were trying to hide the way they were looking at each other the entire time during the jam session. She knows, but she just wants to hear Raven say it.

“I don’t...I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Raven says, her voice nearly a full octave higher than normal. Clarke snorts and rolls her eyes. If she was trying to hide, she wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

“Oh, so you weren’t giving Bellamy heart eyes that whole time?”

Bellamy sighs and hangs his head in his hands, but it does not conceal the grin creeping onto his cheeks. The shaggy haired boy shakes his head slowly.

“Alright, we’ve been caught,” he says, and Octavia’s eyes widen. She immediately begins feigning gagging sounds, and Clarke giggles at her antics. 

“Oh my God. That’s...you’re...Ew, Rae! Bell! What the hell?” she exclaims, and Lincoln chuckles as he runs his hand across her arm in comfort. Raven sighs and moves to sit next to Bellamy. He pulls her into his lap immediately, his arm wrapping around her middle much like Lincoln and Octavia. Octavia makes another gagging sound and hides her face in Lincoln’s neck. The dark skinned boy grins and runs his fingers through her hair.

Raven only grins in response, and Bellamy’s cheeks go red. Clarke smiles wide at her friends, grateful for the happiness they’ve found.

\--

The majority of the day goes quickly. They sit in the living room playing music until somewhere around two in the afternoon, when rain begins to pour down from the sky. While they’d usually begin to groan about how soggy and disgusting the field will be the next day, this is all but forgotten. It takes only a shared glance before everyone is sprinting out the door to the backyard. Clarke and Lexa are the first people out the door, and Lexa doesn’t mind the way Clarke’s dragging her along one bit. The brunette lets out a squeak at the feeling of the cool water suddenly hitting her skin in one torrential waterfall. Clarke giggles, unfazed by the coolness of the rain, and twirls Lexa around.

“What movie did we just jump into?” Costia asks, pushing her wild curly locks out of her face. They’ve begun to straighten slightly from the water, and Lexa will never be used to the way her hair looks when it’s straight. Anya snorts and nods, her white shirt giving way to a clearly visible Superman bra. She doesn’t appear to have it in her to care, however, as she suddenly tips her head back and throws her arms out to the side.

“Dans kom ai, Kostia!” she exclaims, and Lexa rolls her eyes at her sister’s antics. Clarke pulls her toward her suddenly, and the two of them are face to face. 

“Thank you,” the blonde whispers, placing a quick kiss to Lexa’s lips. A quiet “aww” sounds from someone behind them, but Lexa barely hears it. She’s enchanted by the icy blue eyes seemingly brighter against the dreary grey sky.

“Always,” she whispers, then kisses the tip of Clarke’s nose. It brings a blush to her girlfriend’s cheeks, precisely the reaction she hoped for.

They dance outside in the rain for the better part of fifteen minutes before the cold gets to be too much, and they come inside dripping wet. Lexa is grateful for the tile floor just inside the patio, and as Clarke runs to grab towels, she hopes it won’t take long for the trail of water droplets she leaves to dry.

The afternoon and evening pass just as quickly as the morning. The time is spent playing video games (Clarke is VERY good at Call of Duty, even better than Bellamy, Lexa learns), watching chick-flicks, and munching on various foods. Clarke stays in a good mood for the entire day, and Lexa could not be more grateful that their plan had worked. 

Kane comes by at dinner and stays for the rest of the night. He joins Abby and the kids in watching movies, and it shouldn’t feel normal, but it does. 

“Reshop,” Abby says softly to the bunch of kids scattered around the living room. She flips the light in the kitchen, leaving only the lamp in the living room and the light of the moon to illuminate the room. Lexa smiles gently as Clarke buries into her chest and whispers a goodnight back to her mother.

“Reshop, Abi,” Lexa says. The two of them share a knowing, sad smile before Abby heads off to her room, where Kane is likely waiting for her. The thought doesn’t make Lexa uncomfortable in the slightest, though she knows it ought to. She instead hopes that Kane will be there for Abby as she knows is needed.

“I love you guys,” Clarke says a few moments later. Her voice is quiet, but content. By the slowness of her breathing, Lexa can tell that the blonde is nearly asleep.

“We love you too, Clarke,” Raven says, and murmurs of agreement sound through the room.

That must be all she needs to hear, for not a moment later, the blonde drifts into slumber. Lexa follows close behind. She rests her head on top of her girlfriend’s and lets exhaustion take over.

\--

Clarke wakes with a start. Something’s wrong. Something is very wrong.

Her eyes dart from side to side, searching for the clock. Through the darkness, past several sleeping forms, she makes out the red digital numbers on the television box. 

2:00 am, on the dot.

“DAD!”

The scream rips from her throat without warning. She quickly tries to untangle herself from Lexa’s arms, the startled brunette immediately trying to fight her back.

“Lexa, LET GO!” Clarke screams. Her dad is gone. He left. He’s on the road, he and Mom got in a huge fight, he’s going to…

“Clarke,” Lexa says calmly, her grip holding firm around the blonde. Clarke is suffocating. She can’t breathe, and as Bellamy and Octavia rush to her side with Raven close behind, she thinks she’s going to explode. Too many people. No space. Can’t breathe.

“Dad, he’s...He’s going to...LEXA!”

Her voice breaks now, cracking on Lexa’s name. The name grounds her, and she suddenly comes back to reality.

Her dad has been dead for two years now. It’s the night of his death, and two years ago today, he left and never came back. There’s nothing Clarke can do now. He’s gone.

Clarke stops fighting as Lexa tightens her arms around her and several hands wrap around her body in one way or another. Bellamy’s strong hand holds onto her shoulder, a comfort she has looked for since they were young. Every time, he knows. He holds on and he doesn’t let go. Raven grabs one of Clarke’s hands, and Octavia simply links their pinky fingers, her ring finger jerkily rubbing across Clarke’s hand. Anya, Costia, Monty, Jasper, and Lincoln each approach, surrounding Clarke. It feels less suffocating, now, and more like a coccoon of safety, instead. Feeling the warmth and love of her friends is what takes away the last of the panic. Despite how it feels so much better than panicking, she hates the ache that it gives way to. Her eyes well up with tears immediately. Everyone’s grip tightens, and Clarke swears she hears Anya whispering words of comfort. 

“It’s okay to fall apart a little, Clarke,” Jasper says, his voice steady but affirming. A strangled sob escapes the blonde’s throat in response, and she buries her face in Lexa’s neck. The brunette simply holds her, not tightening her grip or trying to do more to comfort. She’s simply there, solid against the way Clarke’s world is shaking, and it is enough.

“Clarke, honey?”

Clarke lets out a heavy breath of air at the sound of her mother’s voice. She turns, and everyone has made way for her to see her mother. They bow their heads slightly and watch on.

“I miss him so much,” Clarke whispers. Abby swallows hard, and Clarke recognizes the action. Fresh tears slip down her cheek as she realizes that her mother is trying to keep it together.

Lexa gently releases Clarke from her grip, and Clarke crawls out shakily. She practically leaps into her mother’s arms, relishing in her embrace. Her body shakes with suppressed cries, but Abby’s strength is unyielding.

“I do too, baby. Every day,” her mother admits, and everything is too much. Clarke squeezes her eyes shut tight and tries her hardest to block out the world.

It takes five minutes, but she finally calms down enough to breathe properly. Her head pounds, her stomach is churning, and her eyelids feel like lead. Pain gives way to exhaustion, and she knows it won’t be long before sleep takes her back in.

When Abby and Clarke let go, Clarke even chuckles a little bit at her friends. They’ve pulled all of the blankets and pillows in the room down to the floor, creating one gigantic bed of sorts. They’re all laying together, struggling to keep their eyes open but doing so until Clarke returns to them. There’s an empty spot in the middle of the group that looks conveniently Clarke-sized, with space to fit one more person if needed. Bellamy holds his arm out, a sad smile on his face, and Clarke doesn’t miss the mistiness in his eyes.

Abby places a kiss to Clarke’s forehead, and they exchange “I love yous” before Abby heads down the hall, where Kane is surely again waiting. Clarke then turns to find Lexa standing and approaching her.

“Lay down, love. I’ll be right back,” she says, placing a kiss to Clarke’s forehead. The blonde is too tired to protest.

\--

When Clarke is wrapped up in Octavia and Bellamy’s arms, with everyone else cuddling in as close as possible to her from every direction, Lexa heads down the hall.

She isn’t too late, luckily. Abby hasn’t yet gone into the room. Instead, she sits just outside it, her knees pulled up to her chest. Lexa’s heart breaks in two as she realizes that her face is streaked with tears.

“Abby?”

Abby looks up with a start, and immediately reaches up to wipe at her cheeks. She stands, her legs visibly shaking.

“Lexa, honey. Are you okay?”

“I came to check on you,” Lexa admits. She approaches Abby tentatively, seeking approval. Abby nods shortly, and Lexa reaches toward her with open arms. The hug is strange, and somewhat awkward at first. However, Abby’s head drops to Lexa’s shoulder a moment later, and Lexa tightens her grip around her girlfriend’s mother’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Abby,” Lexa whispers. It’s all she can think of to say, and she hopes it’s enough.

“What kind of wife am I? To be with another man not two years after he died?” Abby whispers, and Lexa knew that was going to come at some point. She wonders how long this has loomed over Abby’s happiness with Kane, how hard it has been to truly love him.

“Jake would have wanted you to be happy, Abby.”

The name makes Lexa’s heart ache, and Abby’s body shakes in Lexa’s arms.

“Thank you,” is all that she whispers, and Lexa isn’t looking for anything else.

They stay there silently for another few minutes, and Lexa wills the tears welling in her eyes to stay at bay. She needs to be strong for Abby, because the woman needs strength from somewhere.

She almost loses her composure, however, when Abby places a gentle, motherly kiss to Lexa’s forehead before whispering another thanks as she heads back into the room. Kane is standing at the door, and he nods to Lexa. Lexa swallows hard and nods back.

When she reaches the living room, everyone is asleep but for one. When Bellamy and Lexa’s eyes meet, Lexa’s composure breaks. She sniffles as tears drip down her cheeks against her will.

Bellamy scoots back from Clarke carefully, cautious so as not to wake the finally sleeping blonde. He reaches an arm out as he had for Clarke just minutes ago, and Lexa sighs. The heaviness in her heart and the heaviness in her eyelids war with each other, but the exhaustion she feels wins over. She walks toward him and practically falls into the place where he’s made space for her. She immediately wraps her arms around Clarke, and the blonde curls into Lexa in her sleep. Lexa presses her lips gently against Clarke’s forehead, hoping the tears dripping down won’t wake her. 

Bellamy rests his arm tentatively across Lexa’s middle, and Lexa knows he’s not sure whether it’s okay or not. Slowly, she reaches up and places a hand on his arm and pulls him closer.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “For taking care of Clarke.”

“Always,” he says, relaxing. He reaches around to pull Raven closer to his back as he scoots closer to Lexa, the warmth of the closeness on all sides bringing a sense of peace to the exhausted brunette. Her eyes finally fall shut, and she relaxes against Clarke.

“Goodnight,” she whispers to Bellamy, whose breathing is beginning to steady. 

“Reshop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long, I got stuck. I am SO here for Bellamy/Lexa getting closer and being the protectors of the group. Next is State... hopefully it won't take so long to post!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for my absence. I've moved on to other projects, and I know this story hasn't got a large following in the first place. However, I didn't want to simply desert this...it took some time, but I've come up with this final chapter. I think it allows for some finality to the piece, and I hope you enjoy it and you have enjoyed this ride as much as I have.

“BOO!”

Clarke yelps in surprise as she’s startled awake by a certain brunette. Her hand, the one not tucked around her asshole-for-a-girlfriend’s protective arm, flies outward and makes contact with The soft skin of Octavia’s cheek on the blonde’s knuckles alerts her of what she’s accidentally done, and her eyes fly up to look at her face.

“Good morning to you too, Griff,” Octavia mutters, reaching up to rub at her cheek. It wasn’t too hard of a hit; there’s only a small patch of redness that likely won’t bruise. As Clarke continues to look her over in concern, Lexa snickers against the back of the blonde’s neck.

“Happy Halloween,” she says, pressing her lips against Clarke’s exposed skin. The blonde hears Bellamy’s familiar chuckle from behind Lexa, and love them all as she might, she’d quite like to punch them right then.

“For the love of all that’s holy, what time is it?” Costia groans. Clarke sits up just slightly, bringing Lexa with her, and sees the wild haired girl sprawled over Anya’s still sleeping form. The older girl stirs as Costia stretches.

“Six,” Monty says. He’s still wearing his watch; Clarke bets that he forgot to take it off the night before. The blonde looks down at her own wrist and finds that Jake’s watch is there, too.

Kane walks into the living room bearing a cup of coffee, and Abby is close behind, both already dressed and cleaned up. They look exhausted, but the ache of the day before is not as intense now as they greet the kids with a smile.

“Anya, Cos,” he says. Both girls give a tired sound of acknowledgement, bringing a grin to Kane’s face. “We have to head to the school in half an hour.”

Anya lets out a frustrated groan, and Clarke chuckles. Everyone is beginning to stand up and stretch their aching limbs now, making quite the faces as they do so. Bellamy and Lexa each hold out a hand to Clarke, and they pull her upward in a second flat. The movement is so quick that the edges of her vision begin to darken, but the dizziness passes just as quickly as it came.

The time between waking up and loading the busses is a blur. Their performance is at 11 am, only an hour away. They have to be there at 9:30, however, which has them leaving the school at 8:15 for good measure. They’ve elected not to rehearse this morning, and have instead opted for a bit more time to sleep and a band breakfast before departure. Clarke hopes that those two things will make for a better performance rather than a flawed one, but she decides not to spend her time worrying about it. They made it this far...that’s all that matters.

Clarke plops into the same seat she’s been in for nine weeks now, her blanket already pulled up to her shoulders. The last day of October is making the air rather chilly, almost uncomfortably so, but it doesn’t matter. This day is going to be too good for the weather to affect the blonde.

They’re only five minutes into the bus ride, unusually loud and energetic for an early morning trip, when Raven pauses and suddenly turns around to face the whole of Skaikru. Her face is still as though she’s realized something extremely important and life changing.

“We haven’t sung show tunes this season,” she says. 

Suddenly, everyone freezes. She’s right. No such show tunes have been sung, a tradition that has been honored all four years that they’ve been in the band so far. Ever since they were eighth graders just barely tall enough to see over the seats, the band has sung show tunes on the way to at least one competition.

“HOD OP!”

The bus quiets immediately, and all of its passengers turn their attention to Raven.

“It’s time for the obligatory show tunes singing time,” she insists, and Clarke grins as she sees tired eyes light up at the suggestion. Harper searches through her bag and finds her phone, then holds it up.

“I’ve got a playlist of karaokes on here,” she says. Before Raven even responds, Harper is walking up to the front of the bus carefully once they reach a light and fumbling with the proper cords. 

Not a moment later, an all too familiar tune plays through the bus speakers. It’s too quiet at first, but it doesn’t take long for the radio to be turned up. The percussionists on the bus immediately began to tap along with the beat, as the introduction was entirely percussion-based. In their freshman year, they’d played the song as the closer to their spring concert, and it was still Clarke’s favorite to this day.

When the chorus came, the entire bus was singing at the top of their lungs.

“He had it coming

He had it coming

He only had himself to blame

If you’d have been there

If you’d have heard it

I betcha you would have done the same!”

Clarke chuckles as Bellamy opts to take the next verse, contorting his voice to make it as feminine as possible.

The bus driver has to tell them to sit down a couple of times, but Clarke catches him smiling in the mirror that reflects his view for the whole bus. The two of them meet eyes for a moment, and she smiles at the man. He grins in response and shakes his head for a moment before turning his attention back to the road.

The next few songs include Phantom of the Opera’s opening theme (Lexa makes for a convincing female Phantom, and Clarke can’t lie about the fact that she’d be the most attractive Phantom ever), Defying Gravity, and Take Me or Leave Me. Clarke is reminded of the fact that not all band kids are bad singers, and in fact, many of them are quite good. Costia and Octavia make for a magnificent duet in Take Me or Leave Me, and Harper’s ‘Defying Gravity’ is better than what half the choir could even imagine doing. 

The next song that comes on is a dramatic change in pace, but an incredible piece all the same. Les Miserables is filled with music that makes your heart sing and ache, sometimes even at the same time.

As soon as the familiar introduction plays, realization washes over the majority of those participating in the sing-along. Raven places her hand over her heart and closes her heart dramatically, and Anya grins with half her mouth as she listens to the song. Clarke’s heart aches before the lyrics even arrive, but when they do, she doesn’t hesitate in singing the parts within her range.

“Don't you fret, M'sieur Marius   
I don't feel any pain   
A little fall of rain   
Can hardly hurt me now   
You're here, that's all I need to know   
And you will keep me safe   
And you will keep me close   
And rain will make the flowers grow,” she sings delicately, putting effort into shaping her voice and singing with emotion. She struggles slightly with the upper part of her range, but Lexa backs her up without hesitation.

Lincoln takes over Marius’ part, but that doesn’t stop others from joining in. 

They sing show tunes incessantly until they reach the school, and it's a good thing that they don’t need their voices, because they’re practically shot by the time they arrive.

The next hour is a blur. They change into uniform and go through warm-up without much thought, and it still goes wonderfully. Excited energy courses through their veins as they head toward the field a few minutes early. As they wait outside the fence, they realize that the first group is yet to take the field, and is in fact nowhere to be seen.

Clarke looks to her right, just barely, and hopes that Bellamy is looking her way. He raises an eyebrow, hardly perceptible due to the shako, and shrugs his shoulders. Octavia turns her head from the row in front of them and meets Clarke’s eyes. Clarke shrugs as well, then subtly returns her attention to her surroundings.

She can hear Nia’s yelling from several feet away, and she can’t help the way her eyes seem to roll automatically.

“This is YOUR fault, Roan, if you hadn’t insisted on that stupid meeting...this isn’t ABOUT feelings!”

Clarke feels her ears immediately start to burn red, and she knows she shouldn’t move. They’re in block, and this is the biggest competition of them all. However, she hopes Kane will understand when she steps out of her spot and marches straight toward Nia and the oncoming Azgeda band.

“Clarke?” Lexa whispers as she walks by the percussion. The blonde says nothing and instead gently grabs her arm, pulling her along. Lexa does not protest and instead follows.

Neither Kane nor Abby attempt to call for the girls to return, and a few moments later, they’re joined by the rest of Skaikru, including the drum majors. Nia, Roan, and Ontari are a few feet ahead of the band. The rest of the band is being led by staff, and their faces are stone cold. It sends a shiver down Clarke’s spine as she approaches the trio.

“Ms. Griffin. I’m sorry, but there’s no time. We’re already late due to my son’s-”

“Wonderful idea,” Octavia interrupts. Nia looks at the girl with pointed eyes, her eye makeup dark and menacing. Octavia does not back down. Instead, she takes another step forward. Roan lifts his head from where it had been bowed before, and Ontari looks upward as well. She and Clarke meet eyes, and Clarke tries her hardest to maintain her compassion for the brunette. When she realizes that the girl looks as defeated as her brother, it takes no effort for Clarke to be caring.

“You say having feelings makes them weak, but you’re weak for hiding from them,” the blonde hisses, directing her attention from Ontari to Nia. The older woman looks positively offended, and Skaikru is relishing in it.

“Where is Marcus? I want a word with him,” she says, looking around. Her eyes wash over as though she’s found what she’s looking for. Clarke doesn’t have to guess that Kane is approaching.

“I won’t reprimand my children for spreading what is right,” Kane’s voice says, each word slightly louder until he settles behind Clarke. He places a hand on her shoulder, then Lexa’s. “Roan’s idea to meet as a people was a wonderful idea. It’s the people that matter, Nia.”

“Nonsense like that will get you nowhere,” the woman defends, rolling her eyes. Ontari sighs and looks down, and Clarke is having none of it. She gently frees herself from Kane’s grasp and pauses for a moment. She’s either going to regret this or feel wonderful for it, but she’s doing it anyway.

She lunges forward and wraps her arms around Ontari, the uniforms making it slightly difficult to do so. Her baritone is heavy in her one hand as she holds it away from the smaller brunette’s body, but still, it’s a hug. 

Ontari freezes for a moment, and she takes in a little gasp of air. 

“I’m sorry you grew up like this,” Clarke says. She feels someone take her baritone from her hand, and looks up to find Costia smiling as she takes the horn. Clarke smiles back, but returns her attention to Ontari. “I know you’re not the person she’s making you be.”

“Ontari, you’re stronger than this. Push her off,” Nia urges. Clarke and Ontari both ignore her, and Ontari lets out a rush of air as she wraps her arms around Clarke as well. The brunette nuzzles her head into Clarke’s shoulderpad, and Clarke wonders when the last time she was shown this kind of love was.

They remain that way for a moment, then Clarke releases her grip slowly. When she steps back, she’s grateful to find that the rest of Skaikru has surrounded Ontari and Roan, each resting a hand on them and giving a friendly smile.

“We’ve fought long enough,” Roan says. Bellamy extends his arm, a half smile tugging at his lips. Roan reaches out and wraps his hand around the base of Bellamy’s forearm. Bellamy does the same in return, not questioning the gesture.

“A family handshake,” Roan explains. They shake arms momentarily, then release from their grips.

Nia scoffs and storms off, heading toward the now-open gates to the field. Clarke watches her leave, grateful for the departure of such a negative, draining woman. When the blonde turns back around to face Ontari, the brunette is looking up at her with tears in her eyes and a small smile on her lips. It’s the first time Clarke has seen her smile, and the blonde can’t help but follow suit.

“No more fighting?” Lexa asks, smiling in return. Ontari’s smile widens into a beautiful toothy grin that Clarke wishes they’d seen more often. The brunette nods and sniffles, chuckling when Roan places a hand on her shoulder.

“Go have fun. Those judges won’t know what hit them,” Lexa assures. Ontari nods.

“We’ll be right there on the track,” Kane says, his voice soft and caring from behind them. Clarke looks up to Roan, whose own eyes are slightly misty. 

“Mochof,” he whispers.

“Otaim.”

\--

As Lexa watches and listens from her place on the sidelines with the rest of The 100, Azgeda does just what she told them to. Roan conducts with renewed energy, and there’s a wicked, enthused smile on his face that Lexa didn’t even know could exist. The band plays with such vigor and conviction that for the first time, the brunette actually tears up in awe rather than scowling in annoyance. The change in heart seems to lift a weight off her shoulders, and when it’s Arkadia’s turn to perform, she’s never felt more ready in her life.

It’s incredible. They perform better than she could possibly have imagined. Clarke’s solo in the ballad is beautiful, packed with emotion that Lexa’s never heard. The company front in Jupiter is spot on, and while the brunette can’t know for sure, she’s fairly certain that the line is completely straight. From the track, Kane is grinning the entire time. He typically urges power and sound out of the band when needed, but today, he simply stands with his arms folded proudly in front of him as Costia and Anya do his job for him. There’s a fire in Anya’s eyes that Lexa hasn’t seen all year, and Costia has the same wicked grin as Roan. 

Such passion becomes them, and their energy causes the band to give just that much more. Lexa’s hands fly across the drums with finesse, no longer getting tangled and caught as they had in the beginning. The music is a part of her, now, an extension of herself in the same way that her drums are. She’s likely wrong, but she thinks that she may have gone an entire show without a mistake for the first time in her life.

When they finish the show and turn backfield to march off the field, Roan and Ontari are standing with proud smiles. Lexa’s heart flutters in gratitude when she realizes that they stayed behind while the rest of the band was led away by Nia. She can only imagine the fight the two had to put up to do so, and though they have to leave before she can get to the track, she makes a note to thank them if she sees them before the day is out.

The second they reach the track and they’re no longer being judged, Clarke rushes up to Lexa’s side instantly. She says something, but Lexa can’t hear at first. The crowd’s deafening roar, while incredible and certainly welcomed, is making it virtually impossible to hear. Lexa grins and holds up a finger, telling her girlfriend to simply wait a moment.

It takes until they’re off the field completely and heading toward the busses before they can really hear anything. The rest of Skaikru has joined them by now, and Clarke chuckles at the dazed but happy looks on their faces.

“What were you trying to say, Clarke?” Lexa asks, turning to her girlfriend. Up head, Kane must give the signal that they can remove their shakos, for everyone begins to pull at their straps. Though the air is chilled, their faces are drenched in sweat. For once, the air this cold is a blessing and not a curse.

“I stopped thinking about the technicalities and just felt it, and it was amazing,” Clarke rambles. They turn and step down from a curb, and Lexa’s legs feel like jelly. A strong hand grabs hold of her shoulder, and Lincoln’s dark, calloused hand keeps her from falling. He lets go a moment later, and Lexa looks back up to Clarke.

“It was, huh?” she replies intelligently, too dumbfounded to come up with anything better. Clarke simply smiles and understands.

They reach the trailer and busses, and people are already crowding around Kane from his place in the doors of the trailer. Lexa smiles as she sees Abby standing close behind, and waves as they approach. Abby waves back, a small but content grin on her face as she watches the kids file in.

When all hundred kids reach the trailer, they fall hush and look to Kane expectantly. For a moment or two, he is silent.

“Now that,” he says slowly, accentuating the last word, “is a performance that Thelonius Jaha would be proud of.”

Lexa’s heart feels full and ready to burst at the sentiment, but she simply smiles again, her cheeks beginning to burn. Clarke slips her fingers between Lexa’s, hidden by the masses of people in front of them. It hardly matters now, though; their work is done. The uniforms are but articles of clothing now.

“Lunch awaits you.”

\--

The day passes quickly, and it takes only until 1:30 for the rest of the bands to perform. Nia is nowhere to be seen in the stands this time as Azgeda and Arkadia take up half the student seating section. Slowly but surely, the kids of each begin to mingle. Roan and Ontari sit on the Arkadia side, inbetween Anya and Costia. It’s a sight Lexa never thought she’d see, but she’s grateful all the same. It’s been time for this rivalry to break for a long time now. When the last band comes to a close, Roan and Anya head down to the track. It seems to be tradition for solely the senior drum majors to accept the awards, along with the senior members of each band. Bellamy and Lincoln are the only two missing from the performers in Skaikru.

As awards begin, the Lexa does not feel the same nervousness that she normally does. Their work is finished. This is only a moment to commemorate the numbers that the judges felt were appropriate. The numbers mean nothing compared to the feeling, and Lexa realizes that this is what Kane wanted all along. If he’s right in his philosophy, the numbers should be very satisfying if they line up with how the performance felt.

The introduction begins, and Ontari leans backward, her eyes rolling back with her with impatience. Her head rests on Octavia’s knees, and she jumps when she realizes. Octavia moves faster than light and rests her and on the smaller brunette’s shoulder. She gently presses Ontari backward, showing that she could stay. Ontari relaxes and lets out a sigh, then turns her attention back to the judges’ box.

“And now, your tenth place State Finalist is….”

They continue climbing up and up, and the higher up they get, the more Lexa’s heart begins to race. As they announce third and it isn’t Arkadia or Azgeda, Lexa turns to Clarke, eyes wide. The blonde stares back with an astonished smile, her eyes alight with excitement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, for the second time in history, we have a tie for first and second place!” the judge announces.

Lexa can’t help but laugh at the irony. Just three weeks ago was the first time it happened, with the same bands. Ontari had kneed her in the stomach so hard she blacked out, and now, the brunette is grinning with delight at the idea of the two bands tying. Lexa hopes somewhat maliciously that somewhere, Nia is groaning in displeasure. 

When the grand trophy is presented, Roan and Anya each take one handle and hold it high. Pride wells up in Lexa’s chest as the whole stadium seems to stand and cheer with all they’ve got. All it takes is one look at Clarke’s amazed, teary smile for Lexa’s eyes to water, too.

The two groups walk back toward the bus lot for their class together, and it’s still odd to see people interacting this way. It’s incredible how compassion can change the way people view each other in just an instant. Even the rudest, meanest people from Azgeda are beginning to soften, even cracking a few smiles at the members of Arkadia.

Though their busses are a fair distance away, the two groups still stop in front of Arkadia’s for a moment. Roan and Ontari turn to face Skaikru, content smiles on their faces. Lexa realizes then that they’re a very beautiful pair of siblings, and happiness becomes them. It erases the hard lines of anger and competitive nature that had weighed them down in the first place.

“Anya has both of our numbers,” Roan says. He runs his fingers through his long, still braided hair and palms at his phone. “I told her to give them to you all. Don’t be strangers, okay?”

They nod in agreement. Ontari has that same soft smile tugging at her lips again, and she opens her mouth to speak.

It takes a few moments, but she finally finds the words she’s searching for.

“Thank you.”

It’s simple, the same as her brother’s words earlier, but it’s enough. Those two words say more than a thousand others, and it’s enough.

“It was time,” Clarke replies, smiling softly at the shorter brunette. Ontari simply nods, her smile never leaving her cheeks.

She pauses for a moment, as though thinking. Then, she holds out her arm toward Clarke.

Clarke sighs and takes Ontari’s arm, and their grips on each other’s forearms are iron.

Arkadia and Azgeda part, and for the first time, it’s reluctant.

\--

The early performance time meant that they were able to get home and enjoy Halloween, and they did just that. They’d had their costumes planned for weeks now, and all they needed was permission from Kane.

“Can we break into the prop room like we have been all year and use some props for costumes?”

Kane raises an eyebrow inquiringly, not missing the part where they’ve been getting into the prop room without permission, but simply smiles and agrees.

It takes hours, but they finally get into costume, hair, makeup, and all. Clarke and Lexa are, without a doubt, the most terrifying and convincing of the group. Their hair is braided intricately, and the black war paint looks especially good today. It’s darker around the eyes than normal, making the blues and greens of their eyes particularly bright and piercing.

Lexa sheathes her second sword with finesse, then straightens up so that she may meet the eyes of everyone around her. Clarke finally manages to tear her attention away from her girlfriend and turns to face her friends.

They all look incredible, really. The hardships of their years are nowhere to be found as they grin with utmost delight, the lines of stress and anger erased from their features. All that’s left is a childlike wonder that makes Clarke’s heart feel light and free.

Suddenly, a silly idea strikes her, but she does it anyway. She moves from her place next to Lexa and stands directly in front of her, their eyes meeting. Lexa smiles, the soft gesture strange upon her menacing costume. 

“Ai spek yu daun, Heda,” Clarke says, feeling her tongue articulate the words differently. It feels right. This language they’ve created seems to warrant a different flow and shape of the words, and it simply sounds better that way.

Clarke then aligns her words and actions and falls to one knee, her head bowing to Lexa. She hears shuffling behind her, and she doesn’t have to guess that her friends are doing the same.

Lexa simply chuckles for a moment, but Clarke can hear the moment when those chuckles die down to what she pictures be simply a content smile.

“Ai hod yo in, Skaikru.”

Clarke stays on her knee, but she allows herself to bring her head up. Lexa’s smiling so happily, so contentedly, and Clarke takes a moment to appreciate the journey they’ve taken. It was worth every second.

“Ai hod yu in, Heda Leksa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May we meet again.


End file.
